They stood in a circular pattern around it, their hunchback forms attentively observing it. Their eyes were filled with anticipation. Soon, soon it will begin. A time of worship. A time of toil. For it. For the Great One. The merciful Great One. The one who guards them. The one who sheltered them in its womb when the whole world was falling apart. Ah, ah, here it comes. The lights! The pale blue shine struck their near-blind eyes used to the darkness, but it didn't hurt. No, no, the blessings of the Great One can never hurt. As the light got brighter they could feel the ground beneath their feet tremble. No, not just ground. Everything around them quaked. Their whole world. Realizing this they began feeling ecstatic and prostrated themselves on the ground. Suddenly a loud DUM filled their ears and they saw the light above them expand to twice its size and the blue lines started rushing out of it in every direction. The tremors grew stronger and a wail so loud it swallowed every other sound came from everywhere around them. It is here! IT. IS. HERE! They lifted themselves to the sitting position, then prostrated again, then lifted, then raised... They began repeating that process indefinitely. The movement of their bodies exhibited liveliness and joy of magnitude their pitiful existences didn't feet in ages. And how could they not feel it? The time has come again!

""The Great One has awoken!""



11th of May, Year 214 of the New Imperial Calendar (Year 2556 of the Old Imperial Calendar)
Imperial Base Trigal, Albaham

Looking at the pile of paperwork stacked upon his desk, Grand Marshal Bela Eskatez felt that he was growing old, even though for a baraki he was still in the full swing of his adult strength. When did things get so huge? He started his military career in the army of 7000 men, but now he's leading one made out 500,000 soldiers and his was only a fragment of the whole machine which was being prepared at the borders of the Warden Kingdom. Somewhere during the past century, when the Empire lied dormant for a few decades, the scale of war it was capable of conducting became incredibly large. He made a wry smile thinking about the generals in Juren. They'll probably never think to raise an army larger than few hundred thousands. They'll be cruelly and bloodily awoken to the new reality of the world.

Bela was stirred out of his thoughts by the sound of his office door opening. A young oxidal woman entered the room and gave a salute. "My lord Grand Marshal, Commander Shuda is here."
"Send him in." Bela scowled. He didn't like Shuda. In fact, he didn't like arkards, at all. They felt utterly alien to him and he had too many bad past experiences with their kind to be comfortable around them. Which is why, as the young looking man entered his office, Bela skipped the greetings and immediately got the point.
"I'm sending you to do some pirate hunting." He pushed a document in Shunda's direction. "There's this one pirate who seems to have a bone to pick with the Empire- she's been attacking our gold fleets relentlessly for quite some time now. Soldier's named her "the Red Hood". You are to hunt her down and capture her, alive. I'll be lending you two people in my employ to help you find a ship, crew and the Red Hood herself. These two are not part of the military and neither should the people you hire and the ship you buy be. You are not working in the official capacity here, so if you get yourself in trouble you did it on your free time and the Army has nothing to do with you. Likewise, you are free to do anything you deem necessary to get that pirate to us. We have a few questions we'd like answered."





18th of June
Skies over Tanjen

Well... that was impressive to be honest. Tyhr was proud of her talent at finding people, and she was scouted by the Empire- Bela, more specifically- because of it, but seeing her in action and getting result real-time was something else. In just a little over a month the hunting party managed to pinpoint the Red Hood's smuggling routes and now they were staring at her ship, about a kilometre away from them. Now the only thing left for the group is to reach it and capture the pirate. "Only". Although their ship had canons and other armaments, they wanted the Red Hood alive and the best case to ensure that is to shot at her ship as little as possible. Add to that the fact that the Red Hood was supposedly damn good at piloting skyships and this was bound to be a difficult chase. The only helpful factor for the hunters is that the ship they were using wasn't any of the standard Imperial ships, so there was no reason for her to feel alarmed at the sight of another vessel.

The final stage of their hunt was about to begin...

18th of June
Skies over Tanjen
Below deck of the Hunters Ship

The ships hull groaned, competing with the sound of steel grinding against stone. Any swordsman who cared for their own blade would know it to be the distinct sound of a sword being sharpened, as it echoed throughout the steel sarcophagus, miles over the ground. Balazar sat, donned in his distinct and clearly well-used plate, with each strike of the stone against the edge of his blade it jingled. His tattered red cloak splayed behind him down the back of the bench he was sat on and across the wood planked floor. This was just another job, a unique one certainly but still a job that paid, and a good amount at that for something that had sounded so simple and yet he found himself questioning. What was a rich boy and his crew doing hunting down pirates. There was no shortage of glory-seeking men, especially during times of war and chances were that Balazar now found himself working for one. It wasn't his place to question however, as long as he was paid. Keeping his attention towards his surroundings as he mused, his head was bowed as he looked upon the blade across his lap as he sharpened its already keen edge. Balazar was expecting a fight, and if what he'd heard was correct from a few of the other mercenaries around the hull, then the quarry was close.

Balazar had seen airships a few times during his life, even fewer times had be boarded one. Giant cages in the air, no wilderness bar that now below you and no space in which to call your own, lest you call a small room in the bowels of the ship as something to be proud of.
"Damn that Shara..." He muttered to himself, for it was her responsible for roping him into this, she was the one that had approached him with the offer. Weeks spent tracking down these supposed pirates, in a giant metal cage.
Suffice to say that this journey had not been enjoyable but wearing. Balazar had spent most of it in silence, tending to his equipment and speaking only when needed. Any that approached too close without reason was received with the low growl of a wolf. Even the supposed captain of the ship, ranks meant nothing to Balazar, if they wanted respect then they would have to earn it before him, not expect it because of a title. Wealth and good manners won't protect you from a hungry bear after all.

During his time on the airship, Balazar had gotten a good look at the other mercenaries hired to aid in the capture of the pirate ship they were now closing in on. Most were below deck in the hull around him and were clearly the aforementioned men, glory seekers with little experience in combat outside out of training. However, they were good at following orders and stayed well away, which was a point of amusement to Balazar and served them well. There was, unfortunately an Ashan, who appeared to know somewhat what he was doing and looked as if he'd been in a fair few fights, what type of fights Balazar did not know and didn't care as long as he could hold his own in a pitched battle.
Now, Balazar just had to wait.

18th of June
Skies over Tanjen
The helm of the Sundancer

A surprisingly social Mord, an Erdevar that didn't look like she liked flying and an Ashan who had the social ineptness of a hermit. How exactly did Veela end up with these three pulling her down? As she remembered, all three paid awfully well for just some vagabonds who wanted to get into Juren. So well was their pay that it even caused her to worry, forcing her to sleep with a knife under her pillow for the first few nights. When it became abundantly clear that none of her passengers were out to kill her, she stopped being so cautious but that did not mean that she instantly stopped suspecting them of being capable of wrong-doings. At the end of the day, they were simply passengers with no loyalty to her whatsoever and she wouldn't blame them if they traded in information about her in return for some Imperial gold.

Surprisingly, it was the Mord who had the most difficulties with the lack of communication between the most of them. Veela stayed silent most of the time, drawing a scarf up over her mouth and keeping her red hood up so that only her dark eyes were visible to the others. Their conversations were limited and any that did occur only seemed to exist due to a desire for efficiency. She told them how far they were off, their estimated time of arrival, what was there to eat and most conversations ended there.

The majority of her time was spent at the helm of the ship, making slight adjustments to their bearing so as to avoid the range of Imperial hunting parties that scoured the borders. She knew the skies like the back of her hand so spending so much time in the wide cockpit was unnecessary but she chose to do it nonetheless. Veela felt much more comfortable at the controls of her ship than waiting around trying to absorb another ancient tome. The others seemed content with her keeping her distance and she preferred it - communication led to companionship which meant that if she needed to ditch them, that silly, little angel on one of her shoulders would chide her not to abandon them.

They had already skirted around one of the known hunting ranges into a small corridor which allowed any smugglers to dance out of Imperial influence and over the borders into Juren. It was a fairly popular corridor for pirates but she was a tad bit surprised to find an unmarked ship edging closer to her. Up there, Veela was the predator and few ever escaped from her gaze.

Initially, it was no real worry - it was armed but it looked like one of the ships the people-smugglers use. They were fast enough but took a little while turning with their wide design. When it began to edge closer, she became curious as to its intentions. Eventually, she dragged an old book from her private quarters and once again inspected the ship, trying to draw some conclusions as to what group it operated under. Her cause for concern was not arbitrary. Veela knew these skies and she knew it was a dangerous place. Ships very rarely drew so close to each other unless they were flying in a squadron or one of them were trying to blow the other out of the sky. Nevertheless, the fact that the ship didn't use any of its guns to target her engines swayed her into the unknowingly dangerous thought that they were a simple ship that some new smuggling company had picked up.

She was in no place to fight this ship however, so much like a gazelle that had heard the nearby snap of a twig, she chose to inspect and remain cautious instead of just throwing all fears aside. Taking her place in the cockpit, she adjusted her bearing by 30 degrees, hoping that the ship following her would continue on its bearing instead of adjusting. If it did adjust... Well, then she'd have a problem.

18th of June
Cabin in the Sundancer

Gaon floated in the middle of the room, wings outstretched, balancing a ball of fire between his hands.

What can I do with this? He thought.

There was an open book on the bed, the page stopped at 'Fireball'. He'd been learning it the previous night, but he'd been dissatisfied with its destructive power.

First thing's first... He thought, It's too small.

The fireball started to swell and grow, the heat growing stronger as it did so. It grew to the size of a rock melon, then to the size of his head, and then even bigger. However, the growth started to slow and eventually it ground to a halt. The fireball reached his outstretched hands and the heat was impressive. But...

"This is my limit for now." He said.

The fireball dissipated and he lowered his hands with a sigh. He floated backwards onto the bed and dropped onto it.

"Damn it, I don't want to use Anima Overflow just for this." He said, flipping through his book.

Well he said that, but in actual fact he was probably going to do it anyway. He had a pretty good idea in mind, but his magical ability was a little too limited in his current state.

It was rather annoying for his body to be unable to keep up with his mind but he couldn't do anything about it.

"Just like my legs..."

His legs dangled uselessly from the bed. He was unable to move his legs since birth and as such they were a detriment to him more than anything else.

"Eh whatever, I'm still pretty far away." He said, trying to console himself. "I'll have plenty of time for this new spell."

He'd paid the captain of the ship to take him to Kamisai, but she'd apparently had a couple of passengers heading to Juren as well. At least one of the other passengers had been rather talkative but Gaon hadn't had any plans of coming out of his room.

"Ah, I don't care anymore!" He said, pulling himself upright. He held out his hands in front of him and concentrated.

Sundancer, Below Deck

There was three things that a wise man feared : the calm before a storm, a night without song, and the wrath of a Erdevar stuck inside an airship. It was not that Asrai particularly had a dreadful fear of flying but she disliked the act all the same. She much prefered the ground beneath her feet. Ground did not go and explode randomly in the sky and kill everyone inside, ground did not depend on the calculations and skill of others to remain alive. Ground was dependable and stout qualities that Erdevar valued immensely.

Normally Asrai would have made her pilgrimage to Kamisai on foot treking across the empire, across the border into Juren, traveling to the Juren coast and taking a boat from there onto the island before trekking it across the Kamisai chain of isalnds to visit each of the pilgrimage temples before heading back to her old village. Though it seemed all sense of normality was quickly leaving Azure as the Mytryan Monarchy grew hungry for more power. What was once a simple border crossing, became a whole affair as she had to pass through several imperial checkpoints and now she couldn't even do that as only special military visas could get you through the impromptu blockade the imperials had created. Though things like a simple military checkpoint weren't going to stop her pilgrimage even if it meant having to fly on a death machine through the sky. Sometimes she cursed her own damn cultural obligations.

The Vukodav sat as she did for most of the trip in silence legs crossed in a meditative position. Her bow was across her lap and Adra was curled up next to her his canine frame slowly rising and falling with his gentle breaths. Meditation was less of something Asrai did and more of something must do. The practice of Erdevar mediation is a process that is placed into the children of Kamisai at a very young age. They spend their first months of training at the temple learning to meditate properly. It started out simple lots of sitting and deep breathing and eventually they moved to more abstract ideas things that would make the average man raise an eye in postulation. They learn to feel the anima around them fluxing and coursing like a gentle river as they trained to feel the ripples that life caused within it. This lead to a very acute sense of self and presence in a Erdevar medition state as it puts you very quickly into perspective into the much bigger span of the universe. Each breath felt miniscule and yet oddly important to the bigger picture as if even though the void did not care of you without you the void had nothing of contrast. Though Asrai was having trouble finding an extended period of peace due to the constant racket of the airship around her.

As the Sundancer groaned again gently Asrai opened one of her eyes again letting out a small sight. Giving up upon meditation she arose to her feet stirring Adra who got up and followed close behind leaving her cabin. She did not travel far moving only from her quarters to the stern observation area. An observation area in the way that the ship was a luxury liner really just a place at the back of the Sundancer that happened to have a small window. Through her she saw what she could barely deem to see as another airship heading in the same direction of them. The strange sight almost past her by absentmindedly but being that close to Jurden made her extra suspicious.

”Hmmm....” was all she said already pondering to herself as she continued her idle wandering about the underdeck of the ship, Adra following close behind. She wondered if she would run into any of the other souls aboard the ship. They had spoken only a little, the Ashen was an odd one and judging from what she could sense from him he was always rippling with magic something that Asrai could only disapprove of in her head, the mord was oddly talkative and always trying to find time to talk to somebody and pester them about life, their captain was apparently a cold and suspicious women who always seemed as if she was waiting for one of her guest to try and stab her. Honestly Asrai would prefer if she didn't have to speak to anybody as it would just become tiresome quickly.

Storage bay of the Sundancer

A man sleeping in full armour has a few similarities to fighting hordes demons, as in both cases they're tasks widely associated with general foolishness and a lack of will to live. Also, they're both things Mords were simply forced to get used to, among plenty of other things. And also another similarity is that they both leave you pretty tired, but that last part didn't apply to Mords. Not when sleeping while wearing armour, anyway. Demon fighting always took a lot out of you.

Gilbert blinked slowly, emerging from a groggy state. He slowly got off the floor, careful not to hit his head and got into a sitting position. He then stretched his stiff limbs, cursing his sleeping situation in his mind. Sleeping in armour for most of your life might make you get used to it, but it didn't change the fact that it was uncomfortable. Adding to the fact that he'd been sleeping in the cargo bay because the rooms weren't really big enough for him, Gilbert figured that even the most flexible person in the world wouldn't get out of the night without being in serious need of a winch to pull their limbs out of the dead lock.

Gilbert's joints made some healthy cracking sounds, and he loosened up slightly. He let out a large yawn and decided to go up to the deck to get some air. Picking up the greatsword that lay next to him, he stuck it onto his back and got up. His head smashed into the roof but he recovered quickly and was on his way, head bowed to avoid the ceiling.

Gilbert made progress through the ship, his armoured footsteps making quite loud noises as he ascended. He stepped quietly enough outside the cabin doors, in case others were around, and continued upwards through the ship. He saw another of the passengers at the observation deck and offered a short wave with one hand, stifling an onconveniently timed yawn with the other. He didn't know if the Eredvar noticed him or not, but it was highly unlikely that she didn't. Regardless, he grunted a greeting, still trying to shake off his sleepiness.

"Good morning!" He said cheerfully, before continuing his walk.

Normally, he'd probably make some light conversation with other passengers, and indeed, he'd tried on the first day. However, his fellow passengers proved to be less social than him and he found that the conversation couldn't be kept long enough for it to be amusing. Watching the outside held more promise but there was little else to do on the small ship.

Well actually, it was quite large in the view of smaller people, but Mords were 2.5 meter tall colossi and they didn't normally fit well in the abodes of other species. Another thing that Mords just had to get used to. Gilbert didn't really mind, though. He liked people, and while they people on the ship were unsociable, he didn't think they were bad, so to speak.

In fact, the captain of the ship had been so nice to let him on her ship so he could get into Juren. He was thinking about visiting but the country was in lock down for some reason, and he'd managed to hitch a ride with a reasonably trustworthy looking person for some of his money. Well, a lot of his money actually, but he didn't really need to hang on to it anyway, and she seemed trustworthy. In the back of his mind, there was an inkling of a thought about borders and legal stuff, but Gil was never good at that kind of thing so he payed it no mind.

Gilbert continued to climb and found himself near the stern, where the captain usually spent her time. He paused for a minute and decided to say hello. He bent down slightly and knocked on the door 3 times. Two large clangs resonated and on the third knock, he accidentally forced the door to open with a small bang.

"Ah, whoops." Gilbert said.

Disregarding the door, he poked his head through the doorway and issued his greeting.

"Hey, captain!" He said cheerily. "What's it like in the skies today? Oh right, sorry about your door."

Hunter's Ship, below deck

What a drag...

This is what Atlas thought in his head as he occupied his corner of the hull. It wasn't much the style of an Artist, to work along with some brutes, most of which that looked like they would have trouble fighting their own grandmother. Let alone be on some airship manned by an officer in the Empire, of all people. The Arkard seemed experienced however, and probably knew how to use those swords he kept with him. But other than that, nothing really stood out to Atlas, his magical aptitude seemed a little dim. He never really liked wealthy, privileged beings, but Atlas presumed he would just have to mind him.He hoped he didn't act like an asshole with a ten foot pole up his rear, like most acted like with such wealth.

However, this was the assignment given to him, and he would accomplish it however it took. He was used to working alone on these things, relying on himself and his skills to accomplish his tasks. Other people just seemed like a liability. The only good thing about it was that all the attention wouldn't be on Atlas, and the ignorant bafoons could be cannon fodder all they wanted. As long as Atlas got to his ultimate goal, he saw everybody else as expendable.

Although there were a few individuals he noted that looked to be above the average crop of mercenaries. A male Baraki with a fiery magical aptitude, and looked like he's slaughtered a lot of... things. A barbaric man, he seemed like the top that would run in swinging in a blaze of glory, head-first. The perfect kind of cannon fodder. He seemed to sharpening his blade across the hull, and Atlas found this honestly annoying, the sound that echoed throughout the hull. But alas, he could find nothing to throw at him.

Another Baraki woman was to be found somewhere on the ship, a huntress type with a dark affiliation for summoning things. What, he didn't know, but it didn't seem like anything too major. Almost the same as the other Baraki, except a little less barbaric and a little more cunning. But just a little, Baraki never tended to be too smart. The only thing he liked about her was her jokes. They were funny at times, but other times there was nothing more he wanted to do than to put a well-placed roundhouse kick straight to her jaw.

The last of them was an oxidal, who didn't look like she could very much hold her own in a fight. King of, fragile actually, although most oxidals appeared that way to Atlas. The one thing he could say for her is that she seemed to have more brains than the two Baraki put together, and maybe even the imperial. Still, she wasn't much use to him combat-wise, so he really didn't think much of her. But for all he knew, she could have some kind of portable cannon.

Atlas stretched his black angel wings and had them lay evenly down his back before making sure that all his gear was in place, his metal knuckle pieces slipped over his hand, his light metal chest piece, and small metal reinforcemnts over his knees and elbows, which still allowed for maximum freedom of movement. He didn't want to be slowed down, after all. He heard they were getting close to his target's ship, and Atlas wondered how long it would be before they made contact. He had a feeling that he wouldn't have to wait very long.

Shuda stood at the ship's helm. His black leather gloves fit tightly to his hands as he worked the ship's controls. He was dressed in leather armor, it was light but hard. That heavy full plate that was typical of many Imperial Officers didn't suit him. It was too heavy, too bulky. Shuda needed to be able to move quickly, turn on a dime. His fighting style was one of speed, precision, and fluidity- not simply swinging until he hit something. Speaking of hitting something, Shuda saw the Red Hood's ship up ahead. The two ships were relatively close together. But as he watched, his prey started to turn. Likely noticing his own ship getting close. Well, it was too late now. They were close enough

Shuda had three men manning the ship's harpoon guns at all times. He pushed a button on his control panel, and at once all of the ship's speakers started to hum. It was a quiet yet blaring sound, a type of screech really. It couldn't be heard by anyone not on the ship. It was the call to battle. And the signal to fire. The denizens of his ship that were below the hull would know to come on deck immediately and to be ready to fight. The ones on deck would know to use their grappling hooks and take the battle to the other ship. But, most importantly, his three harpoon gunmen would know to fire and reel in their prey.

Shuda flicked on the ship's autopilot, all it really had to do now was stay abreast the other ship as the harpoon winches reeled them in. Shuda was proud of those harpoon guns, they were the best Imperial Money could buy. The Grand Marshall had said Shuda was to "do anything he deemed necessary" to bring the pirate in. Spending a bunch of money was a good way to start. The guns themselves were bolted to the floor of his ship. The harpoons were made of reinforced titanium and kept in the best conditions. The ropes the harpoons were normally attached to had been replaced with steel chains. Shuda wasn't taking any chances.

He stripped off his gloves, and moved each hand to rest on the pommels of his twin longswords. He had one on each hip, sharpened to perfection. He liked to feel the hilt in his hands when he fought, for that the gloves just got in the way. Shuda strode onto deck, turning to make sure the harpoons had fired.

The mercenaries he had hired knew their tasks. They knew the mission. They would see it done. Shuda had had enough of leading and delegating, now it was finally time to fight.

A resounding crunch cut through the air, the sound of harpoons finding their target. Shuda smiled in satisfaction. Now for the hard part.

Tyhr was indeed proud of having her talents be recognised by her employers. Almost like a cat, she liked the attention paid to her by her masters. However, she had her own preferences of when she liked to be noticed, and she did not like to be noticed halfway up in the skysea, trapped on a moving block of wood, metal and steam, with no way to run or hide, and the only option out of this particular lesson of the day was to drop out, literally. The fact that she was not going to be taking home a prize to skin, bleach and hang on her growing collection had yet to be factored in as well. Added to that was her entourage. True, she liked companionship, but not on a hunt. They served to distract and, on occasion, eat a dart or three meant for her target. There was also absolutely nothing to do on an airship. She could hear the other Baraki down at the hold, sharpening his swords incessantly, as if he could magically cut air apart after enough of the same action. Good for him, if that was what he was into. She, on the other hand, savoured every moment she was on the trail of her hunt. In the void that was the skysea, she was experiencing nothing. It was annoying. The smell of her hunt lingered temptingly in the air, and she was so deliciously close to her objective, but there was nothing she could do about it. Patience was not a virtue she possessed.

And then there was the issue with her companions. Wolfy made it very clear that he did not have any interest in her jokes, seeing as he growled at her prize-winning "cutting edge technology" one. Growls usually did not mean appreciation, as she had learned from first-hand experience in a chance encounter with another of his kind. Quite the opposite. The Ashan was nice enough to her, mostly, but she couldn't shake the feeling of condescendence that emanated from him every time he spoke. Not that she minded. Her lack of a birthright to anything at all made sure she had healthy doses of being viewed as a being lower than everyone. There was her best buddy captain of the ship, Shuda. He was an Arkard, which said enough about his attitude towards her jolly-making. The final addition to the fine crew of this ship was of Imperial employ, just as she was. Also like her, she was a hunter of sorts, with more focus on stealth and espionage than tricksy tools and murder. Tyhr kept a few select darts and traps just for her.

With boredom setting in, she ran a check on her equipment before the coroner could diagnose her as the first death caused by the dullness of it all. She clenched her fist, and her claws extended outwards with a nigh-muffled click. She released, and the claws slid back into the gauntlet, just as soundlessly as they had appeared. They had never jammed on her before, and she never thought they would, and the practice now seemed a little useless. She stretched out her hand and curled her fingers in, depressing a button located at the edge of her palm, near the wrist. A small indentation on her gauntlet, between the claws, sprang open, and fired a single dart forwards, hitting the wooden railing that overlooked the gaping nothing beneath the ship. She reached forwards and extracted the poisoned projectile, turning it over in her hands. A glint of toxic green at the side of the dart's silver casing made her laugh derisively.

"Whoops." She wrenched the storage of darts open and unloaded the cartridge within. It would be quite a pain if she fired one of these at today's hunt. A pain, that is, for both the recipient, and her ears when Bela was done with his nagging. At the very least, it was a comfort that the former would die very painfully, grasping and clawing at their own forms, attempting to rid their body of the feeling of a million needles being pushed very slowly into them. No amount of skin and flesh torn would save them, however. A rather sad way to go. She tossed the cartridge aside, having done with her reminiscing of the last victim of the darts, and fished out another one. She loaded this one in, and snapped the storage shut. Anaesthesia. Takes about 5 minutes to kick in, less if heart rate was increased, such as in a situation where, say, the victim was fighting for his life or scared out of his wits. Their movement would slow, their actions more clumsy, and their peripheral vision narrow, before they finally stop entirely. Tyhr toyed with the idea of increasing the dose to stop their hearts from beating as well, but stopped abruptly when the ship's speakers emitted the sound she had been wanting to hear since departure. She pulled her short sword out of the woodwork, sheathing it behind her, as she scrambled to her feet. The sound of harpoons being fired, and the reply of their targets having been met made her blood rush through her body. She sprinted around the side of the ship, and looked on as the Hunter's Ship drew in close.

This was the feeling she loved. The thrill she missed so much coursing through her every bone. The thrill of the hunt.

18th of June
Skies over Tanjen
The helm of the Sundancer

A suiting theme!

Veela was so deeply engrossed in the goings-on of the ship behind her that she barely even noticed the Mord step into stern of the ship. Keeping a steady eye on the bearing of the ship behind her, she frowned as he began to speak. It seemed that he didn't really get the fact that conversation wasn't overly welcome on the ship. Sighing softly, she turned her gaze away from the unmarked ship before letting it slip over to the massive creature. She had only seen a few Mords in her life and all of them seemed to brandish the same impressive armour, refusing to even remove it from their bodies when they slept. Briefly, she remembered a story of her Father's own creation - something about how the people of the North were so close to the borders of Chaos that their figures became so mutated and foul that they had to cover their very bodies in sheets of their metals.

"There's a good wind. We should reach the border within a few hours then after that, we'll get to the next neutral Skyport at nightfall." Despite speaking to the hulking beast, she was very clearly distracted as her vision fled back towards the ship. It was only as its other side was exposed to her that she realised her mistake. Turning on her heels, her hands grasped the controls, trying to pull the ship into a steep dive. The ship barely even had time to respond before three dull thuds echoed through the airship.

All passengers of the airship were swept off their feet as the ship's acceleration suddenly ceased, slamming them against the walls. Grunting in pain, Veela got to her feet in a flash and moved back into her cabin, grabbing her rifle and a breathing mask. Once the mask was on, she darted to the door that led out onto the viewing deck of the ship. Once she was out, her attention turned to the ship behind them with its three powerful harpoon guns that were reeling them in. They must have paid dear for them otherwise they probably would have snapped instantly. Sliding into a prone position on the ground, she rapidly butted her elbow against the ground beneath her and used it to carefully balance her rifle. With her other hand, she gripped the stock, keeping an excited finger hovering precariously over the trigger. Peeking into the scope, she identified four or five targets. Three of them were manning the harpoon guns so they were instantly priorities.

Time seemed to slow around her as every gentle blow of the wind became a constant presence in her mind. Breath in. Every hair on her body stood to attention as she adjusted her scope; they were about a kilometer off and closing. Breath out. With the gaze of a hawk, she focused down on the furthest hunter manning the harpoon. Singling him out, everything around her ceased to exist. Breath in. Momentarily, she forgot all of the other hunters as she watched her target shift on his feet; her finger settled down on the trigger, steady and calm. Breath out. Suddenly, her finger slammed against the trigger, causing the rifle to recoil as a bullet whizzed forward. Barely a millisecond later, it connected, spraying the contents of the hunter's brains against the walls.

The other hunters suddenly found their harpoon guns to be uninteresting as they retreated away from them. Veela had earned herself some time but she didn't have much. Sliding into a standing position again, she butted her rifle round onto her back before ducking into the ship again, closing the door and sealing it tight.

Once again, her hands found the controls and she took a moment to settle herself, allowing a brief second of thought. There was no way in hell that they were going to pull away from those harpoons and by the looks of it, the enemy ship was closing fast. Fighting wasn't an option - whenever someone paid Hunters to capture her, they typically hired the best of the best. Cursing, she tried to shake away the growing fear before her mind suddenly exploded with one of the most idiotic plans she ever developed. "Everyone grab something stable and don't let go until I say so!" She shouted, her voice echoing around the ship and reaching all of the confused passengers. Sitting, she fastened herself in.

Reaching up, her hands hovered over the mass of switches above the controls, hesitating. She didn't typically like playing chicken with hunters but she had no other options. Growling, she flicked a few switches before reaching down and slamming a red button. Suddenly, the engines holding the ship up in the sky ceased. For a moment, they hovered, a blip in space before gravity finally caught up with them, pushing them Earthward-bound. The ship fell and like it or not, the ship chained to it followed as well, not being able to hold up the dead weight dragging them down. "FUCK!" Veela shouted, her eyes slamming closed as she felt her precious ship accelerating towards the ground. They were thousands of feet above the ground but unless the hunters severed their bonds, they both were going to become airship-chowder.

Atlas heard the screech of the speakers as the call to battle was issued, and it seemed that his earlier thought was right. Now it was take to put his plan into action. After careful planning he new what his mission was, and he ran a bunch of scenarios in his head. But no matter what happened, he would get his mission accomplished. He never failed to complete a task assigned to him, and he didn't plan on it. Whatever the cost.

Rushing up to the deck, Atlas produced his clone, that appeared right beside him, like an exact replica. It was impossible to tell which was which. One of them ran to the flight deck, finding the captain and standing around the door where he entered. "Alright, our plan is a go. I'll stay here and relay back to you, help protect the ship while my counterpart invades the enemy ship. It should be a walk in the park." he said, looking out the window and looking at the enemy ship, seeing as it was dragged closer to their ship, ready to be boarded. It was time...

The other Atlas was on the deck and quickly dived off the edge, making sure nobody saw him as he spread his wings and flew low towards the hull of the ship. He wasn't about to wait until they came into range, it would be too obvious. For a stealth mission like this, he wanted to get on as quick as he could to catch them by surprise. Besides, he had wings, not like he needed them to be too close if he could just fly. While on his course there was a sudden gunshot and Atlas quickly spiraled downward, looking up to see where the shot came from. It seemed one of the mercenaries had been hit, and the bullet came from near the flight deck. But whoever it was disappeared now, so there was no apparent danger anymore.

Although Atlas did accelerate faster now, trying to reach the hull just in case more bullets decided to be shot, and somebody happened to be aiming at him. It was unlikely, but he wasn't taking any chances. He almost reached the hull when suddenly the enemy ship's front end dipped down and began to drop like a rock. "What the hell?" he asked himself, quickly clutching on to one of the chains of the harpoons as the ship spiraled to the ground, the hunter ship being dragged down but slowing down the descent. Activating his adrenaline, Atlas felt the world slow down, his senses became keen, he felt stronger, faster. Just what he needed. He climbed towards the enemy ship using the chain, pulling against the force of the descent before coming to the hull itself. He gave a strong pull, propelling himself with his wings and phasing through the hull, now successfully in the ship.

He quickly stopped himself as he spread out his wings and put his feet against the wall, stopping himself. Everything was tilted to the side, and if not for his flying ability it would be hard to traverse the place. It seemed like he landed in a utility closet of sort, and since he phased through while the ship was falling he guessed he was around the piloting deck. Atlas heard movement around him though and stayed quiet, hiding himself in the corner of the room and concealing himself. Phase one was complete. Now onto phase two.

"What was that?"

His spell fizzled in his hands as he heard three thunks along the hull of the ship. He looked out of the porthole to see lines coming from the side of their ship towards another ship closeby, which meant...

"Damn it! We're getting attacked!"

He spread his wings and hovered to an upright position. He hovered to the door and out of his hallway as suddenly a gunshot rang out through the hold, quickly followed by a shout he couldn't quite catch. Then the ship listed forward and sideways but since Gaon was flying it had no effect on him other than making the exit to the deck position itself right in front of him. He flew straight forward and he was out in the open air.

What the hell is going on? There was chaos on the deck, unsecured cargo falling overboard and the crew holding on for their lives. The Sundancer as he had learned it was called, was dipping rapidly, it looked like the captain wanted to drag the other ship to the ground.

I don't think normal gravity point will do. He closed his eyes and focused. When he opened them again, they were glowing and colors pulsated along his retina. He'd activated Anima Overflow.

I'll need to widen the range, ramp up the strength, duration should probably increase too... He thought, Easy enough.

The calculations were done, and he flew towards the other ship, stopping about halfway between the falling Sundancer and the enemy ship. He extended his finger and a single black point appeared above the Sundancer, and suddenly its descent slowed down to a crawl.

Good enough for now, as for the other one... He looked up towards the Enemy ship.

A point appeared below the second ship, towards the bow. It was just about as strong as the Sundancer's point, but the enemy Airship was flying of its own power so just the Gravity point wouldn't be able to bring it down.

"Phew, alright. These should last." He said.

His normal Gravity point only exerted enough force to match that of normal gravity, but airships were designed to overcome gravity so he needed something stronger, hence the use of Anima Overflow. But even then, it wasn't really enough.

"Let's raise the stakes a little bit." He said.

He was sort of a bit far away from the other ship so he'd have to get closer. He stretched his wings out and he rocketed towards the enemy ship, charging a Lightning Bomb in his hands.

The ship shuddered and Gilbert suddenly fell on his face, half in the room, half out. It was likely that the tremors affected the whole ship and the captain also fell. It was likely that she didn't expect it, but who would? She soon sprang up, however, grabbed her gear and sprinted over the prone Gilbert.

"Hey, wait up!" Gilbert said.

He quickly sprang to his feet and followed her, hand on his greatsword. He burst out onto the deck as the captain pulled up her rifle to shoot. Gilbert glanced around and saw that another ship had shot harpoons at the Sundancer, and the captain was apparently trying to fix that. She fired a shot and Gilbert saw that she'd hit one of the guys manning the harpoon.

"Um, what-" Gilbert said, question in his mouth.

However, the had no chance to ask the question as the captain sped back into the ship. Gilbert drew his greatsword in confusion as he had no idea what to do, but he knew that people were attacking for some reason. In the midst of the confusion, a voice suddenly rang out from the ship.

"Everyone grab something stable and don't let go until I say so!" Rang the voice of the captain.

Gilbert looked around and made for the nearest stable thing. Seeing nothing immediately accessible, he hit the floor and grabbed the deck, gouging a handhold out of the timber. He was just in time as the ship shuddered once again, but in a somewhat more... sinking way? The airship began falling out of the sky.

Gilbert's body began defying gravity as he held on for dear life. As the thoughts raced through his head, one stood out above the rest.

Is this what airship pilots do every day?

He didn't know, so he couldn't really say.

Suddenly, a shape burst out of the door and barreled into the sky. As Gil looked up to see what it was, his body suddenly jerked sideways, and then was painfully thrown into the deck. The ship stopped moving underneath him and Gilbert stood up slowly.

"Ow..." Gilbert said.

He was winded slightly, and the rough ride marked a pretty bad morning.

"Seriously, what's going on..."

Gilbert stood up and walked over to the edge, peering over. The other ship was thinking and the Sundancer was floating. However, the harpoons were still attached, and they weren't exactly bearers of good news.

Gilbert, stupid as he was, sprang into action because he knew what was going to happen. There was a moment of peace right now, but soon... He sprang down into the inside of the ship and quickly sped to the parts where he saw the harpoons were. He found the nearest one in a spare cabin and drew back a fist. He punched the harpoon as hard as he could, but it only budged a little. He did it again, and it budged even more. 5 times he hit it, and the harpoon was finally let loose, taking a reasonable chunk of wall with it. He would have to apologise for that later, but right now, the faster, the better.

Gilbert sprinted towardswhere he thought the other harpoons would be. 2 more harpoons and only seconds before they would drag the Sundancer with it. 5 punches meant 1-2 sword swings. Gilbert reflected that it was good the Sundancer was relatively small, but it was also bad considering the kind of damage he'd need to do in order to go as fast as he needed to.

Gilbert tensed his legs, preparing to sprint. The ship shifted underneath him, tell-tale signs of the sinking ship. Gilbert went off balance, but steadied himself on the rapidly angling ship. It would make it much harder to keep the property damage in check.

I'll need to pay her back later. He thought.

Gilbert blasted off, ready to hit hammer out the other harpoons by force.

18th of June
Skies over Tanjen
On the Hunter's Ship

Shara sat in her cabin, which was a rather nice affair in comparison to what some of the other crew members had received, and sipped on a piping hot cup of coffee while she mulled over the details of their mission. Capture the Red Hood alive, not dead. The last part was imperative, and not a task that would be easy by any means. Wrangling a pirate as elusive and skilled as the Red Hood would be akin to wrestling a crocodile as it death rolled. “A rather unattractive thought, if I do say so myself.” She mumbled to nobody in particular, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb as she tried to chase away a headache that was threatening to bloom.

The speakers of the ship whirred to life, and the recognizable voice of Shuda chimed out that it was go time. She didn't have much warning before she felt a small rumble through the floor, indicating that the harpoons had launched according to plan. Her part wouldn't come till later, so she took her time, lifting her cup up for another sip. Suddenly, their ship was jerked and she spilled her coffee all across her forearms and part of her chest, earning a very unladylike curse from her lips. The sheer force that was dragging their ship down was so immense that it took her a moment to regain her footing as she clawed at the walls to help stabilize her as she gathered her equipment. Her hover bike was in a small bay on deck that would keep it secured, spirits willing. Then the ship stabilized somewhat, garnering another colorful slur of cuss words from Shara as she nearly banged her face into the corner of the door while trying to open it.

Shara made her way to the deck to see what was unfolding. “Oh bullocks, you have got to be jesting me. This heifer has some serious sack.” Honestly, Shara couldn't believe it... that the Red Hood would cut her own engines in order to elude capture. A very clever game of chicken, and not one that Shara was willing to attempt to win. For now, however, they were in a stale mate of sorts.

Except for the intimidating Ashan heading right for them, a ball of swirling energy pulsating in his hand. Shara ducked and ran across the deck, a hand slipping into her toolkit. She pulled out a square device, roughly the size of a dinner roll with dimly glowing blue lights on the face of it, and then placed it on the deck, where prongs came out and latched firmly into the floor. She tapped the screen thrice, and then pointed to specific points on the deck with the same finger, as if drawing an imaginary line. A transparent wall of light blue erected itself across the deck in a semi-circle, looming protectively in front of the crew. A stray bullet hit the shield just as it was erected and dissipated into nothingness. Some of the mercs gave her an appraising glance, as if just seeing her for the first time.

She knew what they thought of her, that she was weak. It was better to be thought of as weak, than to be heralded as strong. However, she couldn't suppress a grin and gave them a theatrical bow at the waist before returning to her task at hand. She knew a bit about the people who were employed alongside her, from genial conversing and thorough research into who they were before hiring them. This is what led her to what she presumed was Atlas's clone on the deck of the Hunter.

“Hello Atlas, I must say you look rather dashing, clone or not. Don't you get chilly though? At this height, as naked as you are... BRRR!” She exaggerated a shivering motion, just to see if she could manage to get the Ashan to smile. She casually leaned into him and held three objects out for him to take, and whispered quietly enough for just him to hear. “I assume you know how to use these. These can take care of that, and the other... well, that. It would make me as happy as a grinning sky-eel eating chocolate clouds if the ship remains undamaged.” She indicated the objects or people in question vaguely, and gave him a secretive smile. She knew that he was clever enough to put two and two together.

After waiting for Atlas's confirmation, Shara swaggered off to Shuda's side, her hips rolling with the tipsy motion of the ship as it got gradually sucked down. “Shuda, this doesn't seem as if it is going as promising as hoped. Either we lower on point with their ship and allow Balazar and Tyhr to fight whatever rapscallions they have waiting inside so we can retrieve the target, or we cut loose and try a different approach. That Red Hood... She is willing to abandon all sanity to evade us, not to mention that something in there seems to be punching our harpoons out. It wont be long before whatever it is manages to extract them all.”

Shara glanced about, searching for the two mercs in question. She hoped that Balazar and Tyhr were close at hand.

The speakers began humming, this was the signal. The time for battle.
"Get up you dogs!" Balazar bellowed as he rose from the bench, placing his blade into the scabbard tied to the red sash around his waste. He turned on the men and women in the hull with him. Many of them hearing him speak for the first time, but following what he was saying none the less, perhaps out fear or just by the aggressiveness in his tone that made arguing with him sound like a bad idea, either commanded there attention.

"Grab your weapons and form up, we're going up deck!" He bellowed once more as the mercenaries quickly grabbed their weapons and formed up into a crude group before him.
The ship shuddered a little. The harpoons had been fired, meaning their quarry was close indeed. He looked over the few before him, these that would be fighting besides him. Their hands tight around the hilts of blades, axes and spears or the stock and barrel of a rifle. Most would be dead before this was over if the quarry did anything but run. These were not warriors.
"Spirits among us..." He muttered to himself as he turned towards the stairs leading up to the main deck. The ship shuddered violently now, suddenly lurching forward sending balazar and the group behind him, stumbling backwards. Digging his claws into the wood planked floor, Balazar managed to keep himself from stumbling back further, untied barrels and crates tipped over and began rolling towards the dipping front of the ship. Narrowly missing Balazar in their own rolls.
"Grab onto something and hold on!"He shouted as he dug his hands and feet into the planks, he slowly began clawing his own way towards the stairs up to the top deck.

Balazar eventually found himself on the top deck. He gazed around spotting the oxidal herself, responsible for his being here. Shara, stood by that damned Ashan, Atlas. He assumed the Arkard responsible for the mission was at the helm and the Baraki headhunter, whom looked like a capable fighter in her own right, was somewhere close, no doubt.
Several of the mercenaries brushed past him, rushing for cover behind the transparent blue wall that had appeared over part of the ship, which he knew to be a shield.
"What in the damned is going on!?" He couldn't help but shout as he made his way over towards the two, his clawed feet clanking against the decks floor.

"-She is willing to abandon all sanity to evade us, not to mention that something in there seems to be punching our harpoons out. It wont be long before whatever it is manages to extract them all.” He heard the last of her words as he approached. Stopping mid step, his eyes fell to the harpoon guns, each on this side had fired as evident by the chains protruding from them towards the ship seemingly floating above them in a form of limbo. Not all however, we're still in the airship, in their stead were rather large holes in the metal. As he watched another harpoon embedded in the ships side fell away, sending the chain slack.
"Now, now they won't escape that easily." He spoke to no-one in particular as he approached one of the slack harpoon guns, grabbing the shoulders of one of the gunners and spinning him to face Balazar.
"Fetch me another harpoon. Now." With that, the gunner slipped away out of view as Balazar turned to the large harpoon gun. Going to it's base, he found that only a little chain remained, the harpoons had fired almost at maximum range. Ripping of the last of the chain from the base of the harpoon gun, the chain slid of the side, tumbling towards the earth below.
"Where is that blasted gunner!?"

"Good. Move fast." Shuda said curtly to the Assasin's clone. He had always been a man of few words, even fewer when talking to an Ashan.

When the ship lurched the first time, Shuda tumbled forward cursing. Luckily, he was used to sudden movements on ships and regained his balance relatively quickly by following his instincts. His instincts, of course, told him to latch onto the nearest solid object and hold on for dear life. His fingers found their way around the entrance to the ship's control room. He hadn't gone too far away when the ship was tugged downward. And the way the ship tipped, gravity itself brought him to the control room. "What in hell is going on!?" he roared, ready to pull his swords out and cut through whatever was causing this.

A nearby Mercenary heard the angry Arkard and yelled back "The other ship, they killed their engines! They're in free fall! And they're pulling us down with them!" Shuda swore again. It was a bad habit of his, a result of his occupation and too much time around pirates. "We need to retract the harpoons" the mercenary yelled again. "Or we'll die!"

Shuda snorted, Like hell we will. This was nothing more than a game to see who would give in first. If their ship hit the ground, so would the Red Hood's. And she was far less dangerous on land. Shuda was willing to risk it. "Those Harpoons stay in till I say otherwise!" With that, Shuda strode into the control room. Suddenly the ship lurched again, seeming to stabilize somewhat. Shuda took advantage of the opportunity. He quickly flicked off the autopilot and took manual control of the ship. He directed all engines to one task and one task only: UP. He put the engines on 100% and almost immediately, the descent slowed. He thought they might even be rising slightly, but surely it was just a trick of the light. They would still fall, but Shuda had bought them some valuable time. If their plan was to work, Shuda needed as much time as possible. They might be falling but that didn't change anything. Not now. Not till the last second.

Shuda strode from the control room, his mind in turmoil. They needed to act fast. Take advantage of whatever had them stationary for the most part right now. Suddenly, Shara strode up to him, she sounded as worried as he felt. "The Harpoons!" he shouted, hearing what she said and remembering. "The blasted Harpoons!" he roared again, striding away quickly. Shuda looked surprised to see Balazar already at work there.

"You three!" he shouted at three Mercenaries standing around looking dazed and confused. "I'm not paying you to stand around! Man those Harpoons damn it!! Help the Baraki!! Reel us in! Work those winches! Do whatever the Baraki tells you!!" The mercenaries looked shocked at his angry tone, but started to slowly and reluctantly follow his orders. "Old Ones curse you! MOVE!!" He shouted, delivering a swift kick in the behind to one of the full-grown mercenaries. They scrambled forward rapidly, moving to do as he requested.

Shuda turned back to Shara. "Where's the other Baraki? What's her name? Ther? Oh, and where's that blasted bike of yours Shara? Went to all that trouble of finding room for it on board! We're going to need it, put it to some damn use for once!" Of course, he didn't mean half of what he said but in his experience working with Mercenaries, most responded to little else other than threats, curses, and a chance to fatten their purses. To be honest, he was impressed with Shara and the mercenaries she had found. They appeared far more competent than the lot he was used to. Shuda spotted Thyr nearby "Oy! Get ready to fight! I'm sending you aboard!"

There was an old Erdevar fable of the fisherman and the storm. The fisherman lived upon a special piece of coastline upon where there was always perfect weather: the sky was blue, the ocean was so calm that it created a mirror that reflected all of the heavens upon of it, and the fish were always bountiful. The fisherman lived his days taking what he needed from the sea and always confident that it would always give him something back. One day though there was news of a storm coming. The fisherman did not believe this because in his very long life there had never been a bad storm that touched the waters where he fished, he believed those to be liars and fools. An old friend came to warn him of the storm and yet the fisherman dismissed him, a man from the temple came to warn him and yet he was dismissed, and even the fisherman's daughter came from the next village over to tell him and yet he dismissed her. Though the clouds grew grey and dark the fisherman still dismissed them for he knew what his world was and he knew that no storm would come. Even as he set up his boat, the wind picked up and the animals retreating to find shelter he dismissed it for he knew no storm would come. The fisherman went out to sea that day and was swept away by the great storm swallowed by the ocean never to be seen again.

---

Yet no hard taught lessons of adaptability to change could of helped Asrai in the moments to come. For a time a serene moment of peace fell over the Sundancer, though like most serene moments of peace they only existed to be broken by the overwhelming forces of chaos. Asrai was almost impaled upon sharp metal as a harpoon broke through the Sundancer’s hull mere inches away from her face. She pulled back quickly just in time as another one lodge right where he body once was. From somewhere above her she heard the captain’s voice echo down below in an authoritative tone to hold on to something. Asrai body moved before her mind could finish making the connections required to comprehend speech with one hand she grabbed a hold of the scruff of Adra’s neck hoisting the wolf up and with the other she latched on firmly to the closest thing to hand it being the harpoon that was currently jutting through the wall. There was a great shudder as the Sundancer pitched downwards and the Erdevar suddenly found herself suspended in mid air one hand grasping on the hook, her wolf hanging below her as entire ship was now plunging towards the ground.

Asrai concentrated all her strength upon not letting go and falling from the “top” to the “bottom” as she mentally wondered what the hell was going on. She figured the harpoons must of come from the craft that she had spotted following them through the viewport. But the did not explain why the captain had decided to suicidally plunge them towards the ground as if she was late with an appointment with death. Certainly drastic measure of this kind were not that warranted where they? They could deal certainty deal with common pirates without having to crash spectacularly in the process? She felt her arms burn in protest as she was stuck in a dead hang her entire body rigid as her feet dangled into the dead air. Adra yelped in protest below her as Asrai’s other hand clutched his scruff harder trying not to let go. She wondered how long this would last as she tried and figure out a way to get out of her current predicament.

Then it hit her much like a speeding truck. A sudden bursting surge of anima that her fine tuned Erdevar senses picked up like a radar dish. There was a sharp and sudden pain in her head like the worst splitting headache in the world as the current outflux of anima battered her senses. The pain was enough for her hands to reflexly let go from their current holds sending Asrai and Adramelechk tumbling downwards. Fighting through the mental pain she managed to grab onto the wolf in the haze pulling it close into a sheltering embrace as she fell. She hit into the floor moments later or what at least felt like a floor but was actually a wall of the ship jutting outwards in the hall now in its vertical position acting almost like a platform right near the open door and about for steps leading up to the cockpit proper, the door hanging weakly upon its hinges from the Mord who had just came barreling through it almost moments earlier before Asrai's impact. The impact knocked the wind out of her as she groaned in pain. The pain in her head began to subside as it adjusted to the overwhelming amount of anima in the air. She was perfectly content to rest upon that wall for the rest of her life which seemed to be ending shortly until Adramelechk growled against her chest still stuck in her embrace.

”Huh? What is it boy?” She muttered releasing her grip on him and letting him go. Adra crawled off of her chest and continually nudged her with his nose trying to get her up. The hunter not one to argue with her animal companion slowly pushed herself to her feet. Steadying herself after the impact took a moment as her breathing returned to normal. Adra was pointed ahead or well across from them and down quarter of an inch closer to the door that lead to the cockpit than she was. It was a door..... just a door that seemed to lead if she remembered correctly a closet of some sort. Though if Adra was acting up that mean his nose was sniffing somebody that definitely should not be there, a scent that he had not familiarized by himself upon the journey. One of the pirates perhaps? But why in all things holy would they be in a closet?

Not second guessing her hunting companion the Eredevar drew her bow and nocked an arrow in a swift fluid motion that came from years of practice. At half draw she let loose and fired sending the arrow at the door and impeding it within the frame not enough to actually go through but enough to get the attention of whoever was on the otherside. She announced in a calm and clear voice towards the mysterious closet occupant.

”I know you're in there! If you would like to come out of this without becoming a living pincushion I suggest you open the door and raise your hands above your head nice and slowly!” She suggested as Adra growled next to her adding a nice sidenote to the intimidation.

On board the Hunter's ship
Atlas, or his clone, you never really could tell sometimes, had been calmly standing in the plotting deck, watching the mayhem occur that was the Sun Dancer bringing their ship flying towards the ground. It hardly affected him, as he simply floated a few inches in the air with his wings to keep himself steady. He wasn't really scared, as he was used to being this high of altitude, and well, he could fly. Which was a lot more than most on the ship could say about the situation. Atlas watched as mercenaries scattered around the ship, getting shot at, milling to places like chickens with their heads cut off, sliding around the ship. It was actually quite amusing to watch. All awhile the "captain" of the ship was barking orders at people, looking like he wanted to stab something with those swords of his, falling and sliding around like the rest. But he barely said any words to him, maybe because he was the only one being productive and not in panic. Well, his counterpart was being productive, he was simply relaying info. "Alright, he's on board the ship. He's going to try to make it to Red Hood once things settle down on the piloting deck."

Suddenly, Atlas caught an Oxidal running out onto the deck. She seemed to be messing with a piece of equipment, and soon a glowing blue shield revealed itself, shielding some of the mercenaries behind it. Which showed how good these mercenaries were... But the Oxidal was beginning to prove herself a little. Speaking of which, she had joined them on the piloting deck. "Flattering, Shara. And no, I don't get cold." Atlas mused, watching her lean against him casually. Shara was the only one he really minded on the ship. Despite not being much for combat, she had a head on her shoulders, and knew what she wanted and how to get it. A thing a trained assassin could admire. After the briefing he nodded, knowing exactly who and what she was talking about. He took the three items and kept them in his belt, but keeping one of them close at hand. It seemed that he had a task to do himself after all. "You know I aim to please." he said with a smirk, watching her head off toward the captain. Atlas took a few steps and looked out on the deck, just floating there a bit. It seemed there was an Ashan aboard the other ship, floating around deck. The little cherub looking guy seemed to be casting magic everywhere, more of a nuisance really. One that had to be dealt with. Noticing the gravity point and not quite sure if it was still functioning, he took an arc around it and towards the enemy Ashan. Once he was in range, and on the same deck, he called out to him.

"Hey jackass, catch." he said, throwing a small sphere hurtling at him. In about a second it would explode into a brilliant ball of light and energy, enough to blow back and stun the frail Ashan. But in this amount of time, Atlas took it to swoop high and come from above him. He would have to choose; Worry about him, or the sphere.

Aboard the Sun Dancer

The other Atlas waited patiently in the closet, keeping quiet and listening to his surroundings. It was quite chaotic, things banging around, clashing, exploding. It sounded quite hectic out there. Whoever or whatever sounded very large and clunky, like a big metal brick, seemed to depart down the corridor. But before Atlas got out he got feedback from his counterpart, that the Ashan on deck was being dealt with. Good. It seemed like maybe the coast would be clear, and this would be an easy swoop in and swoop out. But that would just be too easy.

Atlas heard a sort of growling, and he froze on the spot, looking around. It was some animal, and by the sound of it, it was getting closer. Footsteps too. Dammit he caught my scent he thought to himself, as he heard an arrow clunk against the frame. A female voice outside, telling him to come out with his hands up or be shot. Well, obviously he wasn't going to go out there where he was more likely to be shot by an arrow... Atlas looked around and spotted a cleaner of sorts, and an idea sprang up. He dumped the contents of the jug onto the floor, the smell of cleaning products filling the closet. It was almost intoxicating. Perfect. And there seemed to be no light in the room either, only a modest closet, large enough for maybe two mords to fit. But probably not comfortably. "How rude, I just wanted to clean around the ship. It seemed quite dirty, I can't believe they allow filthy animals... It's a surprise they let you in." he said snidely, before flying up to the ceiling and tucking himself away in the back corner, wrapping himself with his jet black wings. If she wanted him, she would have to spot him herself. Although that normally wasn't easy.

Bothersome. He thought.

Another Ashan appeared in front of him, throwing a sphere of some description and then flying up to swoop down on him.

I don't have time for this.

He extended a finger and created another Gravity Point, much smaller than the other two but not much weaker. It appeared sort of above and in front of him, just enough so he wouldn't be caught in the radius but it would catch the Ashan and the device. Both of them changed trajectory towards the center of the field, but Gaon cancelled it as soon as the device and the Ashan met.

"My mother told me not to accept gifts from strangers." He said. He flew past as he heard the device detonate.

His target was the ship, and his time was running out. As he approached the enemy ship, he saw there were many mercenaries on board, mostly armed with swords and axes of some description. He kept his distance and aimed his fully charged Lightning Bomb at the hull of the ship.

"This sure isn't you're lucky day." He muttered to himself.

He flew backwards as it detonated. It detonated with a sound like several lightning bolts striking at once, and punched a sizeable hole in the metal. Arcs of electricity flew in every direction, and the ship shuddered from the impact. It was bad for the ship, but not all was well on Gaon's end either.

The glow in his eyes were fading fast, and the Gravity Points were dissolving as well. Anima Overflow was ending and the after effects were going to kick in very soon. He turned on his heels and flew as fast as he could towards the re-falling Sundancer. He had to get there on time...

((Anima Overflow just ended and so did all of his Gravity Points. Assume he'll be under the after effects a little bit after this.))

Preoccupied with the battle that was heating up nobody, neither the pirates nor the hunters, noticed what was happening underneath them, down on the ground. If they stopped for a moment and paid a little heed to the world around them, they'd have heard it, that soft, rumbling sound. However, by the time majority of the crews of both skyships realized, it was already to late. Suddenly, almost without a warning, both skyships found themselves surrounded by two huge, black shapes. It was like they were suddenly put in a valley between two black mountains. Both had numerous spikes protruding from them, each the size of a skyship. For a moment, the only thing that could be seen from the skyships besides the black shapes was a small part of the blue sky above them, and then the darkness enveloped them.

There was a short period of calmness within the abyss, giving an instant to the crews of both ships to process what happened, before a sound of rushing water announced what was coming next. A powerful wave, so strong it tore through the hunter's ship which was first to be hit and destroyed its engines, pushed both skyships downwards. What came next was a spiralling decent into unknown...



DUM

A sound as if a giant drum was struck fills your ears, bringing you back to conciousness. Realizing you are lying on some kind of soft, mushy ground you raise yourself and open your eyes. A sight of a dimly lit area filled with numerous shapes of various sizes greets you as you stumble back on your feet. Due to the weak light the visibility is bad and you have a hard time before you recognize the shapes of bodies. At first glance they all look dead but some of them quickly begin to stir as if to warn you that they are alive. As more and more bodies come back to life you realize that not all of the faces that now appear before you belong to your crew members. Some of your enemies survived as well.

DUM

Here comes that drumming sound again and this time you notice a blue lines appearing in the darkness around you, like circuits. All of the lines were spreading out of a single pale source of light in the distance. Strangely, looking directly at the light doesn't harm your eyes, but you still can't recognize what its source. The only way to find out what was creating it would be to go there.

But first you have to decide on your next course of action as more and more survivors wake up. A sound of a drop falling somewhere reaches your ears.