The distance from the railing to the hatch felt like ten miles rather than meters. Vanahara gritted her teeth, against the wind, against the harpy trying to claw its way to her arm, against the shield itself that wanted to drip out of shape with every break in her concentration. She just had to get the hydromancers and herself down the hatch, and then she could take on the rest. The bird-monster latched onto her shield drove its beak into her shield, and the metal buckled around it, a sharp dent punching through right at eye level; with a growl, Vanahara punched back, the strange Storm metal responding instantly and spiking right through the back of the harpy's throat.

The heavy corpse dropped, and she moved backwards, her back to Eve and Nataly as she watched warily for more attackers. She moved as fast as she could, ushering the two ice mages behind her into a sprint for the hatch. Even at full speed, though, the drakes were faster. One came in low, and with the shield raised to protect the hydromancers from a stream of fire, Vanahara didn't see it until it was too late. Jaws fastened around her ankle, pulling upward, and she fell backward as she bit down on a sound of pain. The teeth piercing her leg were enough to break her concentration, and the metal shield dissolved around her arm, splashing to the ground as if molten hot even as frost crawled across its surface. Vana bared her teeth and lashed out with her other foot, kicking the other drake square on the nose and forcing it to release her.

She landed hard, the breath huffing out of her, but she forced herself to keep moving. Her left hand had landed in the puddle that was all that remained of her shield, and on instinct, she lifted her hand and threw it out. A cluster of glass-sharp shards of metal flew out from her fingers and embedded themselves in the drake's eyes. Its scream ricocheted in her ears, but Vana didn't stick around to see it die—she scrambled to her feet, and in a few long strides she jumped down the hatch after the hydromancers, quickly slicing the rope tied at her waist with the blade of her gauntlet.

With everyone inside, she turned, raising her hands and curling them into fists as she brought them down, slamming the hatch closed. She waited an extra moment, clenching her hands tighter, as a few points on the metal hatch spot-welded to the frame seemingly of their own accord—the extra reinforcement they sorely needed. Shaking her hands out from where they were starting to prickle with overuse, she reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a length of cotton. She stood on one foot and raised the other to quickly wrap the fabric tightly around the sluggishly bleeding punctures on her ankle. With a quick pass of her hand, she also stowed away the prize she'd managed to hold onto—she'd look at it later.

"I'll open it later," she said shortly, glancing up at the secured hatch, favoring her undamaged foot as she turned again. "Sir, I should get to the engine room. Much more of this stress and pipes could fracture—a leak will slow us down drastically." If she was still barred from the engine room, then she'd go where Commander Hayes ordered her, but there wasn't much more she could do for the hull if the hydromancers were safe.

Raven jumped down before Vanahara made it. Watching as the metal twisted about to seal the door from the now very angry things outside, Raven turned as a metal trooper stepped towards the mages, still hanging on to what appeared to be the limb of...something which had appeared to be ripped clean off. A collection of bloody feathers, blood, and other mess seemed to coat the metal armor, and the guard payed it no mind as they approached to give a report.

"Sir, we are ready to begin the propeller process. We are near edge of storm as reported by my comrade." The metal trooper said, still paying no mind to the blood and mess they carried.

"As you were, soldier. Mages, brace yourselves. We are not going to be quite as....airborne for a little bit. No worries, we'll be able to fly afterwords." Raven said, hooking himself around some pipes in what he hoped would keep him steady. They had only a few minutes to all get in position, and shouts echoed through the halls as the message spread like wildfire they were 'lowering the propellers' and 'gonna chop those bastards good'.

"Hang on tight. And...don't mind the screaming you'll likely hear. That would be them getting what they deserve." Raven continued, until there was a loud groan going through the ship and then the ship stopped rumbling. That particular change lasted just a moment as the ship slammed and skipped along the earth. The reason for this was only notable to the crew, and the creatures outside.

The propellers which had been helping keep the ship airborne began to lower, descending upon the unsuspecting creatures that were still lingering on and around the decks. As the spinning blades cut into the creatures, the ship lost what little altitude it had left as it had cleared the storms. With the cover of the storm no longer keeping the monsters in cover, many of them took off back into the relative safety of the storm. After skidding along the earth with the metal hull taking a beating, the ship finally skidded to a stop.

After having taken a few jumps, rumbling, bouncing, and just generally being shaken about in the metal ship, Raven chuckled as he rubbed his head from where he had smacked it against the pipe he had been clinging to keep from being tossed about too much as the ship had skimmed along the earth.

"....Well, hopefully most of you survived that...That was...quite the ride. Though, I imagine the ship didn't appreciate it all that much. So, how was your trip out in the world? Wildlife to your liking? The bastards are always trying to bring smaller ships out of the sky, so the storm must have made them a bit more reckless." Raven explained. "I would recommend you see our....doctors, but I get the feeling you mages have ways of taking care of yourselves which is better than just some wrapped cloth and meds. So, I will leave you to your own devices, I need to make sure my ship isn't too bad."

"I will be patrolling with my comrades outside. We will take care of opponents still nearby. They will know better." The mech troop said, and then stomped away to another door, which opened and he went outside. Several other mech troops followed, in some instances finding some opponents who were brutally ripped apart while the mechs made sure the area was secure. Meanwhile, the crew set about trying to get the ship back in order after everything was tossed about...and trying to get those who had not gotten secured to the mystical 'healer' who had been saving lives that they figured would either be dead or out of action for months.

The Scar was pretty, but Silvana didn't have a long time to admire it before they were attacked. With no hesitation, she conjured up her fire blade, ready to take down anything that would harm them. When a harpy approached her, she slashed towards it, burning its feet, but wasn't careful enough to notice a second harpy right behind her, which sunk its claws into her shoulder. With a cry of pain, she conjured a bird of fire right at it, hitting one of the harpy's wings, and once it was down, stabbed through it with her blade. The fire burned up the harpy on the inside, and Silvana took out the blade to swing at the previous harpy, making sure that she wouldn't get clawed at again.

The harpies weren't the only thing she needed to be mindful of, as there were also various elements raining down on them. A bolt of lightning struck right in front of her, causing her to fall back, her fire blade disappearing. The bolt had thankfully hit the harpy that attacked her first, so that was another one taken care of. Though now Silvana was even more aware of the pain in her shoulder due to the deep wound she had there. She had to close the wound, but she didn't have time as she heard Raven call to them to retreat below. Without a moment to think, she hurried towards where everyone else was going, making it despite a block of ice almost hitting her from her left side.

Silvana sat down, holding onto something as they began to fall so as to not have gravity fling her about. Once they stopped, she took a brief moment to examine herself. She was alright aside from her left shoulder, the one that harpy had attacked. The wound was fairly deep, and she needed it healed right away. She was bleeding, but it wasn't fatal. She knew that one of the Illuminate Masters were there, and searched for him from where she sat.

Mira had been taken by surprise early in the fight, a Drake attacking her and meeting its end with a flurry of cuts from her blade. Unfortunately she had not been swift enough to get out of the way and had been clipped by the falling beast, sending her sprawling to the deck, barely conscious and concussed. Some ally, she wasn't sure who, had hauled her below decks to safety, and now she seemed to be coming out of the worst of it, her dizziness and blinding pain fading away into mere disorientation and an awful headache.

"I did not account for myself very well out there." She mumbled around a tongue that felt like a felt pad about a foot thick. She checked over her injuries surreptitiously - a deep gash in her brow from where her head had impacted deck railing, and her flesh was tender and sore all along her right side, where she'd likely have a lovely bruise for the next week or so. Fantastic.

She slowly, gingerly made her way to where she thought Master Alexander would set up for triage. She wasn't overly concerned about her own condition, but she knew that he'd want to look her over and make sure that there wasn't more severe damage than a bruise and getting her bell rung.

Just when Jonathan had secured what he thought was the most critical parts of his research (still a sizable amount of scrolls, which he conjured into 4 metal-covered books without really caring to organise them based on their content, an activity that could wait for later), he noticed the S.C.A.R. had a new reading for him. As he decrypted it, he found out that the craft he had spotted started slowing down and losing altitude at the edge of the storm, until it was lost from the S.C.A.R.'s sensors.

Seeing that the S.C.A.R. could only make readings for the area influenced by the Scar's elemental flux, and that the edge of the storm could not instantly destroy a ship to the point of no detection (especially since said craft had survived the parts of it that could), this only meant one thing; the craft had survived! And then probably crashed, if it kept losing altitude at this pace. A look out of the window confirmed his assumptions: near the edge of the Scar, a giant airship sat proudly at the ground, full of dents in its... ice-covered layers? (Yep, definitely Elementals up there) and with its proppellers inexplicably close to the deck, but probably still attached.

Now there was nothing keeping Jonathan in his but. Even if the airship was too badly damaged to fly away, he should help on repairing it or at least helping out the survivors. And if there were no survivors... he hoped things wouldn't come to this, but if they did, he could at least investigate the crash site and the airship.

"Stewart, Margaret, cease activity and come to me. We're leaving" he said quietly to the vast emptiness of his room.

Suddenly, the bellows stopped pumping. From behind the bellows, hidden by the shadows, emerged a humanoid construct made of tungsten and aluminum, around a foot and a half shorter than Jonathan, and walked towards him. From the other side, another humanoid construct made of the elemental metal of this area, at the same height as Jonathan, stopped observing some experiments at also walked towards him. This construct was obviously more advanced than the small one, and had slightly more feminine characteristics than is normally seen in constructs of this kind despite its lack of sensitive parts of the female body.

Everything was ready now. Jonathan called his formal garments from the chair on which they were slowly picking up dust; a large robe made out of pure metal, but somehow as light and soft as silk; a truly gorgeous and inexplicable piece of clothing, a gift from the Master that took care of him when he first arrived to the Academy. Then, he grabbed his backpack, sighed, and did what his robe was not designed for, what he hated to do and did not need to do for years, what he only did as an exercise until now. He started running, with all his strength, towards the location of the airship, not once turning back to what he left behind.

At Commander Hayes' instruction to hold on to something, Ling hurriedly collapsed Kei's arms and stowed the weapon on her back. She spotted a sturdy-looking pipe and grabbed on with both hands, hoping it was enough as she planted her feet in preparation for the... crash? Whatever it was, she was thankful she'd stowed her pack securely before the fight.

---

When the dust settled, Ling let go of her handhold and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"I would recommend you see our....doctors, but I get the feeling you mages have ways of taking care of yourselves which is better than just some wrapped cloth and meds. So, I will leave you to your own devices, I need to make sure my ship isn't too bad."

"Right... accounting for damage. Did that scratch end up getting worse?" The question was aimed at herself, as she examined the marks the harpy had given her. Blood was slowly staining the surrounding fabric of her tunic, and the skin was torn open in several places. "Okay, standard restorative before the adrenaline wears off and it stings less than it will later." Ling took one of the red potion vials from her belt, uncorked it, and knocked back half of its contents in one go. She tentatively poured a few drops of the rest into her open palm, and began rubbing the potion into the injury.

Ling winced as she performed the necessary work: the liquid stung where it met the quickly-closing gashes. But the blood flow ceased almost instantly, leaving a patch of red-raw skin. Good enough. Shame she couldn't fix the holes in her tunic. Recognising the fact that she couldn't do much about that - unless they invented a Fabric Element - she held out the half-full potion vial, looking to her fellow mages. "Anyone need a pick-me-up after that little adventure?"

Vanahara gritted her teeth when Hayes told them to brace themselves. She let herself fall backward the few inches to the wall, bracing herself with her feet as with a press of her palms, the metal links of her belt at her back melded with the metal plating on the wall—as secure a hold as she could make. She kept her damaged ankle slightly raised and grabbed a nearby pipe for good measure, and a good thing too—as the ship slammed into the ground, it was only her grip that kept her from bouncing right off the floor.

When the dust settled—literally—Vana released her belt from the wall and gingerly put her weight on both feet. Not that bad, then—not nearly as bad as the Firesmith girl who looked like she'd gotten a claw right through her shoulder. Commander Hayes was already moving away to attend to the rest of the ship, and as much as she'd like to follow him, Vana knew she should take care of her own injuries first.

"I'll take you up on that, Nightshade," she said, voice coming out rough as it always did. "Don't have more than scratches." She propped herself against the wall again and lifted her foot, pulling off her boot and the quick bandage she'd wrapped around her ankle with little more than a wince. The bandage was dotted with blood, but the teeth marks in a ring around her ankle were little more than needle holes, and thank Karina they hadn't nicked any tendons. As for her burned arms, Vanahara peeled her newly unlaced bracers away from the patches of red, painful skin with a hiss of air the only sign as to pain, inspecting them clinically and nodding when she was satisfied that Ling's potion would be able to heal the two small patches of burned skin at her inner elbows. She looked up, offering a nod as she took the proffered potion, dabbing as little as possible onto a clean section of the now wadded-up bandage and rubbing it into her injuries as she'd seen Ling do.

Within moments, the burns at her arms eased and the punctures in her ankle were closing. Vanahara gave a glimmer of a smile in approval as she handed the potion back, pulling on her boot and re-tightening her bracers with quick, practiced movements. She glanced down at the Firesmith clutching her shoulder, and with a sigh leaned down to haul her to her feet—using the uninjured arm, of course.

"Master Smith is down that way," she said shortly, pointing down the hall at Alamar's retreating (stumbling) back. "Follow her." After making sure that Silvana was firmly on her feet and wasn't about to fall over, she gave her one more clap on the undamaged shoulder and turned away. Vana headed in the opposite direction, following the clank of retreating footsteps to somewhere she could properly touch the hull and try to straighten out some of the damage.

Jonathan kept running, and kept running, and kept running. Neither his long metal robe, his backpack, his old age, or his lack of proper exercise did anything to help in his rush, but none of them seemed able to stop him in any way. Behind him, his two robotic companions were following him restlessly, in a kinda slower pace, but also seemingly unhindered by their own heavy construction. In fact, they probably could also carry some extra scrolls, but Jonathan did not think of it until this point and he did not care either. He kept running, and running, and running.

Until he could not run anymore. He suddenly came to a stop, and barely managed to hold his balance and not collapse head-first into the ground. He stood there, catching his breath and contemplating his position while his companions caught up with him. The airship was much closer now- it was still a sizable distance, but he could walk it there most likely. But still, he could also probably signal them while he was still there, if the refined iron veins in the ground would help him.
Slowly, he concentrated his powers and focused on a piece of metal next to him, on which he gave a trumpet-like shape. If his calculations were correct, he should be able to resonate his voice through the surrounding veins of metal for a satisfying g echo through the area. With all his power, praying that his echoed voice wouldn't get lost through the continuous sound of the Scar, he shouted through the hole in the metal:
"Greetings, oh brave traversers of the Storm! Would you accept upon your airship a humble follower of Karina?"

The search for access to the outer shell of the Commander's ship was a fruitless one for Nataly. The ship's inner defences seemed rather impenetrable, and there was no clear path to get to the outside. It was while she was having a look around when the point became moot.

"Mages, brace yourselves. We are not going to be quite as....airborne for a little bit." WHAT?!? "No worries, we'll be able to fly afterwords." WILL I BE ABLE TO FLY AFTERWORDS?!? ALAINIA DAMN IT! The commander appeared to be hunkering down as best he could. "Hang on tight. And...don't mind the screaming you'll likely hear. That would be them getting what they deserve." This crazy bastard is really doing this. Alainia save me from this madman!

After scouring the area for something that would serve as a proper anchor, Nataly settled on a pipe hanging out from the side of an inner wall and wrapped her arms around that sucker like it was a stuffed animal following a night of corn vodka. She could hear the engine rumbling stop, and then a thud as hull met earth. Nataly felt her legs push against her for a second before the rumbling as the ship skidded along died down. And then the screams. And the whirring of the blades. She even thought she could hear the splatter hitting the remaining shreds of ice coating the hull. All she could do was shut her eyes and hold onto that pipe that was her only link to a world without the shrieks.

Finally after a tense few minutes all that was heard where the whirs of the propellers, Nataly allowed her feet to drop back down to the floor of the ship and she finally let go of the piping. "....Well, hopefully most of you survived that...That was...quite the ride." NO SHIT! THAT'S LIKE SAYING THE ACADEMY IS A NICE SHACK! Nataly was less concerned with what he had to say after that and more with her own well being. Adrenaline had concealed most of the injuries from the ordeal. Now they were making themselves known. Her ankle was sore, not limiting, but still a little tender. Her robes were singed half to ash. Definitely was smart wearing these onto the battle field. Smooth move, hun. Her right hand was still a bit numb from all the exposure to the storm but other than that, she was one of the lucky ones from the looks of things. The Nightshade was offering some home remedies, which were nice but unnecessary. Vana was definitely on board that train and she deserved it, going full hero in getting her and Eve off that rail. "If no one else is gonna have a drink of that, I'll take a swig. After dealing with all that bull, I'd even take some of the leftovers from last night."

Jonathan waited for a while, then decided that his voice was not heard. Immediately, he started running again, despite his fatigue.

Finally, the reached the hull of the Airship, again while barely not collapsing on the ground. When he has caught his breath, he started observing the Airship from this angle. Despite its rough appereance (Nothing unexpected for a ship that survey the Scar), it was a truly beautifully designed and equipped ship.
He could not find an easy way in, however. He could try to repeat his rock and use the echo to make his existence known, but a better idea popped up into his mind.
"Stewart, start climbing up the Airship. Feel free to use the hull to help you, but return it to its original shape after each step.Once you're on the bridge, redirect survivors to my position."
He then turned to the larger robot. "Margaret, come over here and help me. I know this is not your area of expertise, but collect me some metal. We're making a staircase to the bridge. "

"Rest easy mages...though it seems most of you were not even rattled by our landing. Just a few bumps and bruises for most of you! Shake it off like some good soldiers, and I think you might just be warrior material." Raven said with a chuckle, letting the mages wander off to meet Alexander before being interrupted by a metal soldier. Giving a quick nod, he made his way to the upper deck where the large rotating blades that had been holding them in the sky were still in their lowered position, and if the ship were to turn them back on would make little sliced bits of anything.

Raven did not concern himself with such things, and instead was interested in the figures that had approached his ship. He began to wonder if the mages had a different way of communication? Unlikely, but it might explain a few things that would happen when they were doing their work. Regardless, this new group was something to be either taken care of, or sent on its way.

Being flanked by two metal guards, who had collected a pair of crossbows, he went over to the edge.

"Greetings, wanderer. What exactly brings you so close to my ship? If you are looking for scraps, you are better off testing your luck against the storms than you are with us." Raven said, looking over the railing towards the fellow and his mechanical help. Has to be mage. "Unless you have other business that you wish to discuss? Though I cannot know what you intend to present to me out here as you are..."

Meanwhile, belowdecks, the workers who had been getting some care from Alexander were all now getting back to their duties, and checking on the impressive damage that had been done to their ship like peering into the gaping holes in some walls, pipes, and the armor itself around the ship. After the initial gawking was done, they all seemed to start to treat it as a usual thing, collecting metals and some spare bits of wood to try and patch up the collection of damage.

While this happened, a collection of beasts circled overhead, obviously not large enough to threaten the ship like it had before, but they were watching to see what would happen to their previous prey....and if they would be stuck there for some time. Some of the drakes and harpies landed nearby, but kept a very safe distance after a few got too close to the ship, and were grabbed and literally ripped limb from limb by another pair of metal soldiers. The body parts which they had casually tossed were not even attempted to be grabbed by the other drakes or harpies.

Jonathan stopped constructing his metal staircase, which had reached about halfways to the edge of the bridge, signaled his companion to also stop. The reason was a voice that came from the Airship. He turned his head to see that the voice belonged to a tall, war-tested man, with a determined look on his face and a pair of metal warriors armed with crossbows around him; he was a sure that this man was the commander of the ship as that the sun rose this morning.
"My greetings to you too, Commander. This humble servant of Karina that stands before you -and below you, to be exact- has indeed tested his luck with the storm multiple times -acquiring not only the abundant resources of the area, but also the knowledge the Storm hands out freely to the few who search for them. And yet, I abandoned many years of research on the sight of a ship determined enough to ride through the waves of pure, untameable,unforgiving power the Scar consists of. I, Jonathan Silvas, Weaver-rank Mechanist, son of Stewart and Margaret, am ready to follow you on your journey aboard this ship- and help in its much needed repairs to its original shape - by the moment you offer me the permission to get on board. And of course, by the moment I get convinced for the righteousness of your journey. "

With some help, Joey had managed to weakly rise to his feet, groggily leaning against the nearest wall in an attempt at support. "C-corr...what a lovely day this is turning out t'be, eh?" He mumbled through a groan, looking on as the others in the area went about tidying up the space.

You see, in the event of the ship's rough landing, Joey returned to the cannon bay he was volunteering at, as it was the location he was currently the most familiar with. The Commander advised holding onto something, to prepare for such a landing. Instead, Joey scrunched into the nearest corner, keeping himself low and making himself small. Later he'd recall the act as "a good idea at the time."

And it worked, for the most part. As the ship bumped and rumbled along the ground, Joey bumped and rumbled right along with it. What the scruffy Earthshaper failed to account for, was the surviving cannons struggling to hold their positions at their posts. The wooden blocks holding them in place jiggled out of position, leaving some free to move about the cabin. Some workers were able to hold down a cannon, while others could barely keep their footing and tumbled about with the cannonballs. Before Joey could make any sort of comment or spring into any sort of action, a loose cannon rolled in from his immediate right. The breech and button of the weapon slammed into him, nearly smashing his ribs and pinning him into the corner he once took solace in. Joey failed to brace himself for the cannon, and the immediate brunt of the artillery slammed his head hard enough into the adjacent wall to turn out his lights.

Once the ship came to a complete stop, and the bay workers were free to start patching up holes, one of the workers worked to move a runaway cannon out of a corner, only to notice the unconscious mage nearly squished behind it. First, the man went to place the cannon back in its designated spot. Then, he dragged the limp Earthshaper from the corner, and slapped him awake. "You good, man?" The worker asked as Joey began to stir. He was rushed to his feet once his eyes opened. "Y-yeah mate, thanks." He replied weakly as he tried regaining his vision and catching his breath. Sharp pains came from his abdomen and right arm. The arm in question was noticeably bruised, a deep purple splotch inhabited space from his shoulder down to his elbow. It was challenge to move the limb without succumbing to a ton of pain. The Earthshaper sighed to the best of his ability as he dragged himself out of the cannon bay. A few days before the expedition, he remembered overhearing something about a light mage's ability to heal injuries. And as he trudged down a semi-vacant corridor, he could overhear the directions of the towering metal molder, Vanahara.

"Master Smith is down that way," She mentioned to the one girl mage who's name Joey couldn't currently recall. Then Vana proceeded her own way, making her way past Joey to her own devices. The Earthshaper thought it wise to follow after what's-her-face, in hopes to locate the master Illuminate for his own injuries. "I would rather go outside to see the land, but healing my injuries come first." He thought with a pitiful sigh. It was indeed turning out to be quite the lovely day for the boy.

Well, if anything could be said for the damaged airship, at least there was no shortage of work to do. Vanahara followed no path in particular, only generally moving towards the cargo hold, stopping occasionally to help with the repair efforts. The most damage had been done to the outer shell of the ship, but steam pipes had burst from stress, cannons had been clawed out of action, and shards of Storm-stone had splintered right through the walls. Until Hayes gave the all-clear to step outside, Vana knew she'd be more effective if she dealt with the internal issues first. She stood at one such fracture now.

"On three," the sergeant barked, and Vanahara nodded with the two other crewmen by her sides. "One, two--three!" With a heave, the four strained to bend the thick sheets of metal back towards the jagged tear that an enraged drake had ripped clean through a wall. Vana's arms strained as she pushed both sections flat, one hand on each edge as the crewmen helped keep it from springing back out of shape. When the torn edges slid together with a screech, Vana let go of one side and slowly passed her palm over the messy seam. As her hand moved away, a smoothly mended surface was revealed.

The crewmen stepped away, watching warily for signs of fractures, but the repair held. The sergeant nodded and clapped Vanahara on the shoulder.

"My thanks, mage," she said approvingly. "Appreciate the help. Although I think Simmons over on the starboard side steamworks would appreciate it more..."

Vanahara nodded in reply, working the kinks out of her shoulders. As she turned, her hand fell to her belt pouch, reflexively checking that its contents were still secure for later study. She moved away without another word, heading for the next minor catastrophe--or the mess hall, if that particular summons went out. It had been a long day, and right now, even the beige slop from the galley would taste like sweet ambrosia.

Raven glanced over at the metal guards, then back down at the man and his...machines. This fellow was definitely a strange one.

"Righteousness of our journey? You have a very strange way of speaking, Johnathan Silvas. And I wonder what repairs you intend to do when we already have them well in hand. What is it you really want of me and my ship, mage? In case it was not obvious, I am in a bit of a rush as getting through the storm was the faster alternative till waiting till it cleared..." Raven paused, then decided maybe this fellow could be useful for something.

"Tell me, did you happen to see any other ships near here? Or any individuals happening by with any boxes?" Raven waved off one of the metal troops, who jumped from the ship to the ground without so much as a flinch. Striding past Johnathan, the mechanical soldier went about making sure the area around them was secure.

---

As Vanahara made her way to the steamworks room, it was obvious that this was where all the action was happening....also where the most armor was as the metal door even seemed especially thick. As she approached, a man with an arm of metal looked the mage over, giving her a small wave.

"Mage, right? I hear you can help patch up some of the holes we have going on in here...Just don't put your hands in anything moving, cause I don't think the engine or your hands would appreciate that." The man pulled open the door, and inside was no shortage of spinning gears, pipes, and machinery of all kinds spinning, pumping, and some of it screeching as men and women alike ran about trying to keep things moving smoothly.

Most notable in the room where a few ice spikes which still sat in the room, directly across from the holes that now sat in the hull. There were other bits that some gave space to, like the bits of metal which still gave off a red glow, which from time to time an engineer would spit at which would cause steam to rise.

"We just need help with the stuff that....well, just cut right through everything."

Jonathan gave the man a look of disbelief.
"I understand that my way of speech might be deviating a bit from the normal, and possibly also outdated, for I have been traveling through the lands in almost complete isolation for the past three years of my life. Which is also the most probable reason that I have not encountered any individuals with boxes during my small-duration visits to any village, at least not in an instance I can currently recall. As for airships, an encounter of such a magnificent beast in one of the remote areas I have traversed would surely leave a mark even on my memory"
Jonathan suddenly stopped as a memory, indeed, popped in his mind.
"However, I do seen to recall an event of utmost bizzarity-possibly even a series of events - that could possibly help you. However, if I may repeat myself, I will first require to be convinced of the morals followed by the man I will stand upon when I speak of them. "

"If no one else is gonna have a drink of that, I'll take a swig. After dealing with all that bull, I'd even take some of the leftovers from last night."

Ling couldn't claim to know what Nataly had been drinking the night before... and wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She passed the roughly half-full vial to her fellow mage all the same. "There you go. Have as much as you need, 'cause I've got a couple more restoratives and can make a new batch if I need to."

"Rest easy mages...though it seems most of you were not even rattled by our landing. Just a few bumps and bruises for most of you! Shake it off like some good soldiers, and I think you might just be warrior material."

"You kidding me? That was terrifying at times. I'd take another fight with harpies over a landing that rough." The comment was made as Commander Hayes left the room. "Although... I get the impression the good Commander intends to get us into more scraps. Preferably without the crashing and burning, right? Um, no offence to Silvana, of course. She can do all the burning she likes..." Ling shut herself up. More rambling. To try and make herself look busy, she drew Kei and examined the weapon closely for any signs of damage it might have suffered. It seemed to be fine, though there were a few scuff marks from where Ling had hastily shoved her weapon into its holster.

After taking the contents of the vial in her mouth, Nataly instantly started to feel the soothing effects. Her ankle wasn't bothering her as much anymore, the feeling was beginning to return in her hand, and she didn't feel like murdering that crazy commander anymore. This was proving to be pretty good stuff...although not as good as some of the party drink Tristam cranked out. Still, it definitely did the job. And it seemed like Ling was just as miffed as the rough landing as she was. At least she had a sword or something to busy herself with. Nataly just stood there holding the empty vial like a frosh trying to hide the fact they couldn't take anymore fire water.

"I'd prefer to avoid both those things," she commented as she moved to hand the empty vial back. She looked back over her robes to see how much damage the flaming shrapnel had done to it, but they were still wearable. Just definitely not as elegant or pristine as they once were. "I didn't do a good enough job so far, lousy driver...or storm...whatever..." She held the glass in front of Ling, as if subconsciously asking for a place to put it while she still examined her weapon. "So, Ling, right? I think I've heard your name before. Tristam was always complaining about you showing him up I think. Probably why he kept making the drinks for us. But you're clearly better right? I mean, that medicine was almost as good as that Siren's Kiss stuff he makes, and that's him trying to make stuff that tastes decent. So...that mean you just spend all your time studying back at the academy?"

Ling set her crossbow aside as Nataly mentioned her fellow Alchemist. Tristam, Tristam... where had she heard that name? Oh, right, he was an Adept, like herself, and he ran the distillery down the hall from her lab. He didn't seem to do all that great a job, judging by the smell. Or was all alcohol like that? Ling didn't know. She wasn't the type to mix up something to impede a fellow student's focus.

"Yeah, I do spend most of my time working on my recipes, when I'm not out buying more vials 'cause I smash so many of them," she eventually answered, taking back the empty vial and stowing it in a loop on her belt. "Tristam's... well, average, really. I mean no disrespect, but if you want to drink the cheap and quick stuff until you start seeing flying pink and blue weasels, you ask him. If you want something to get rid of your soul-crushing headache the next morning so you can get your work done, you come to me. Restoratives, Invigorators, All-Nighter Tonics, you need any kind of booster to get through the day, I can make it." She hoped she didn't sound too prideful... or scornful of her fellow Alchemist.

"Though I do agree I need to find some sort of component that gives my potions a better flavour. I'll write that down later: look into sweeter things with no alchemical properties that'll throw off the intended effect." Sugar, whether raw or refined, turned Ling's healing potions useless - it countered the herbal components - and it was already a key ingredient in her All-Nighters. Maybe a fruit juice of some kind would work. She filed that thought away for later use.

"What about yourself? Do you visit any of the towns near the Academy?"

The rough landing meant Drew took a nasty fall down the stairs when the others were safe. Had he been conscious, he would have been glad to hear that the other mages had made it. But instead, he had to push his way out of a pile of broken boxes. His injuries were minor, mostly some bruising. He thought he could just walk it off, unlike the others. He was rubbing his head and groaning miserably when suddenly... he heard a new voice. And it was certainly a voice he would remember hearing before.

This newcomer, this "Jonathan", sounded interesting to say the least. But the commander was bringing up things none of the others had heard of. "Boxes?" he muttered. What did this sort of stuff have to do with the storms? This fellow certainly proved himself to be eccentric and a bit of a liar. Probably thought this was on a "need to know basis", but Drew couldn't resist the chance to get ahead. Moments like this made him glad people tended not to notice him.