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*Yawn*

The downside of tailing soon drew it's ugly head upon Lazulin, his riveting game of solataire seemed on the verge of putting him to sleep. With a muttered curse, he shuffled the cards back together before putting them away in his pack. With a groan, he rose from his seat(much to the combined protest and relief of his body and muscles), taking a moment to stretch out the kinks from his prolonged period of near inaction. Incidentally, as he chose to rise up, he noticed the sound of some commotion from the next railway car over. Curious, he started to make his way towards it but quickly decided against it, not wanting to draw undue attention to himself by getting involved. Instead, he made his way to the upper decks of the barge, taking a moment to breathe in the welcome freshness of the air around him.

Though this moment was quickly ruined by the churning of passing wind sending his long silverly locks to flutter madly into his face. After a few minute or so getting that into a much less irritating(if hastily done) ponytail, he'd turned to look at the growing commotion that seemed to becoming form his right. Apparently, whatever commotion had been going on had spread, much to his chargin. Seemed to be a confrontation between a young blonde-haired youth and a similar-looking man, the latter's reaction to being punched in the face by the former being to hug him.

. . . odd.

Odder still was the action of the woman that seemed to follow the sun-haired youth from below, saying a few words to the older man that Lazulin was too far away to catch, though he couldn't miss her next course of action. Something must've startled the woman, as she quickly drew her sabre, which suddenly seemed to shimmer with heat along the edge. A jumpiness and action that seemed more inline with a woman on the run from the order whose colors she bore. As interesting as this incident had just become, it had also become that much more precarious for him. For a possibly rogue Inquistor to reveal her magic must mean she had confirmed the danger, right? In which case, Laz's plan had fallen rather quickly to shambles before it had began and his chances of capture sky-rocketed. But instead of losing his cool, he simply readied himself for action, feeling for the reserves of magical energy with in him, ready to unleash it if need be.

The first Etoile knew of the antimagic field was the barge stopping. This did a few things to her. Firstly, the door in front of her slammed open from the sheer force of momentum, revealing that there was literally nothing on the other side and that she'd gotten up in arms about what was probably a gust of particularly irritating wind. Secondly, she pitched forwards into an epic-level faceplant. She took the fall on her metal right arm—which, she realized with some horror, had gone totally dead—before her forehead donked against the deck and she let out a high mewling sound that she immediately wanted to punch herself for. Her sabre was ripped from her grasp by the fall, tumbling away from her and clanking upon the deck, only narrowly avoiding the edge of the barge.

Disoriented, confused, unable to use her dominant arm, embarrassed at the noise she made and deeply cross, she stumbled to her feet with a horribly aching head, hoping that she wasn't concussed, breathing heavily. She was in full-on fight-or-flight mode, ready to beat the ever-living piss out of the first thing to get anywhere near her that she didn't expressly want to stop from being injured. She breathed deeply for a moment before growling out an angry "Impulsus ventus!" at the door to slam it shut and maybe take out some of her frustration. So imagine her surprise when nothing happened. The door remained open, her palm remained outstretched, and the wind remained eerily still after the constant howling wind of motion that she'd become so used to. Her eyes widened fractionally in something between more confusion and panic.

Slightly off-kilter, she dashed over to her sabre, hefting it in her biological left hand before giving it the same Ventus-magic treatment that she'd given it before. And as with the previous spell, nothing happened.

"What's going on?" she asked nobody in particular, voice ever-so-slightly quavering before she shook her head. No time for that. Focus down, Etoile. Whatever's going on, you can deal with it. She took a deep breath. She'd read about antimagic fields in her training, and about how they could suddenly form over bargeways and other modes of transport, causing catastrophic accidents. She just needed to wait for it to pass, or for the barge service to come with more manual modes of transport and shove the Eoldysseus out of the zone.

Then a shadow flitted across the barge. She looked into the sky, glaring angrily at whatever obnoxious cloud decided to make the day even worse on her when she realized that there were more important things to worry about than a lack of sunny weather. There was, in fact, a massive flock—swarm?—of birds bearing down on the barge. Etoile narrowed her eyes. There were a lot of things wild animals would do when a fast-moving object suddenly stopped in their general vicinity, but to come dive-bomb it en masse was not one of them. Whatever was going on, it was setting off her inner alarms something fierce.

A particularly-nasty looking raven broke off from the flock and dove straight for her. Holding the sabre at her hip, she waited for the last moment before lashing out with it, neatly bisecting the screaming aerial vermin and spinning out of the way before its dark blood could splatter all over her face, where it had clearly been heading. She was now deeply glad that she'd trained a little bit with her left hand; while it was nowhere near as good as her right with the sword, it was at least workable.

She heard the kid say something and realized that she had been right. Trying her best to ignore the fact that she'd made a less-than-dignified sound in his presence a few moments ago, she shook her head as she looked at him. "The fact that you even have to ask that makes me even more sure you have a death wish. I don't know about anybody else, but I'm getting out of here right about now, and I'd suggest you to come with me if you want to have any hope of making it to the next town alive."

She was making her way over to the side of the barge, preparing herself for the painful jolt of dropping twenty-odd feet, before she realized something, stopping short and hissing in a breath before breaking into a dash, headed for the still-open door. Damnitall! The idiots inside won't have a chance! I need to get them out!

@Altered Tundra@Kal-El

Pagonia couldn't fathom that his day would be going in such a weird manner. To see Zestasia was the happiest moment of his life currently to which the young knight would not allow anyone to break them apart again. Racing with many thoughts his mind nearly overloaded himself with the amount of problems they would cause. Pagonia stepped forward to stand beside his brother, unsheathing his sword, and preparing for the battle ahead. There was no plan to kill anyone here but, getting out alive was the only option. Before he could start, he felt the barge come to an abrupt halt, forcing Pagonia to grab the closet object to remain stable. Nothing ever good lasted in this day and age.

"The barge stopping must mean..." Pagonia stopped mid-sentence to focus on his the blade of his sword for a few moments, "Can't seem to summon my magic. I've seen this more than once when under Master Garland. Anti-magic." The knight stumbled forward a bit to see his younger brother attempting to create his own magic or that's what figured with the boy staring at his hand and not looking as confident as before. Pagonia wasn't feeling the situation and he kept his irritation under wraps. His mind wasn't fully in the game till he saw a large shadow cover the barge.

The knight looked up the very last moment as a bird of some kind swooped down towards his face. At the last moment, Pagonia just barely moved his head to right, the bird cutting his cheek with its beak. Warm blood rolled down his face, dripping on the tattered black cloak covering his armor. A swarm of birds loomed over the unfortunate passengers, ready to rip them to pieces. Another took its chance at Pagonia only to feel the steel of his sword. Another and another swooped down to meet the fine edge of Pagonia's sword. His defensive style could fend off multiple assailants but he didn't know how long he could hold them off. This would not bode well for the innocents on the barge that were just traveling.

"Zes, we have to protect these people. We can't just run." Pagonia roared over the sound of the swarm. His body darted forward like a bullet, cutting through the wind to the point you could hear the movements. Swinging his sword in a dance-like motion, he tore through several birds attempting to attack the child from earlier. Pagonia stood before the child and it's mother with his sword in his hands. This day was not going as planned.

Etoile's shoulder slammed into the door and it smashed open, letting her careen back down into the cabin of the barge. Luckily, the windows were holding; after a few birds—which now lay dead on the floor, in a variety of fashions—the passengers had been smart enough to shut them, and now the ravening flock whirled around, desperately seeking some entrance to the feast of blood and viscera inside. Before she could fully shut the door, a single large owl dove for her, its talon cutting a burning line across her forehead. Snarling, she lashed her sabre out at it, cutting it in two before kicking the door closed. Turning, she grimaced for a moment at the sudden silence and the watching crowd. There were surely inquisitors here, but there was no time. She wiped her sword off on a nearby swath of fabric before sheathing it and stepping forward with a crisp snap. "Stay down, stay safe, stay quiet. Make sure those windows don't open."

She'd realized that, unfortunately, there was no way to get all the passengers out. She didn't wish to dwell on what had happened to the bargeworkers that were out when the birds had arrived. There was no choice for these poor sods but to stay until the antimagic field dissipated.

She turned around to head back outside, making damn sure to close the door behind her as hard as she could and drawing her sabre again. Only then did she notice the young child that was approaching her. She looked at him, more confused than anything else. "What are you doing here? Get down into the barge, it's not safe for someone like you."

Another flick of the blade, another flash of silver metal, and another corpse splattered to the deck. She winced; while the cut on her forehead wasn't severe in the slightest, it stung fiercely. More concerning, though, the blood was dripping into her eyes. She wiped it off with a hand, settling low and preparing for hard combat. Something caught her eye, and she shouted to Zestasia over the sound of the swarm, "Hey, kid, watch your flank!"

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Lazulin cursed as he felt the magical energy he had gathered flow out of him uselessly, his magic being dampened by something he couldn't see. And not only that, but it would seem that the group would suddenly find themselves greeted with some unwelcome company in the form of a literal horde of feathered little devils divebombing anything that moved on deck. Like the others, Laz would duck out of the way to avoid the first wave of attacks, reaching into his coat to bring out a long, slender dagger, as his gun would prove rather useless without any ether to power the firing mechanisms. Still, he made certain that every foul fowl that made it's way towards him would not bother him afterwards as he made his way over to the Inquistor girl, who was helping the last few civilians down into the barge's depths.

"Excuse me, Miss, but you wouldn't happen to have any idea how to get this tub moving again, would you? I doubt I'll be able to hold these guys back much longer with my knife." He spoke in partial jest, but his dark blue eyes were like stone beneath the shadow of his hood, a mask having been pulled over the lower half of his face to hide the appearance of his burns scars sometime during the scuffle. The flock of killer birds seemed unending, and without magic, it would be decidedly difficult to hold out very much longer. LAz himself already sported a few painful scratches from the birds that had managed to slip by his blade, nothing too deep but definitely showing that his dagger was not meant to keep angered birds at bay. "Ah. . . the name is Lazulin, by the way, Lazulin Mulciber. Figured a greeting is in order if we incase we end up dying to birds, of all things. Also, you might want to tell your hero friend over there that he should start moving those people over here instead of trying to protect them out in the open."

Etoile was, quite predictably, displeased with how out-of-hand things were getting. She snorted somewhat disdainfully at the elaborate introduction of this 'Lazulin Mulciber.'

"Etoile. And he is not my friend. Now stop talking and start moving."

A moment later, the young-looking red-haired girl from the cabin—the one who had seemed so familiar—walked up, and showed that at least she knew what she was talking about. Etoile rolled her eyes as she burst into motion, calling back to her: "Nice to see that there's at least one other person here who knows anything about magic." With that, she dashed over to the blonde kid, lashing about her with her sabre at ever-swelling flocks of birds that hovered around him. She winced as a small raptor of indiscriminate type buried its talons into the soft flesh of her single working shoulder. Even the thick woolen mantle couldn't quite keep the claws off, and as it disengaged, it ripped a huge slash in the garment.

"I have no idea why you're still out here. How long does it take to get a few deckworkers and people taking the air down into the cabin? Your incompetence appears to have few boundaries. But as long as you're trying to draw the birds off so your friend over there," she jerked a thumb at Pagonia, "can get people into the cabin, I'll see if I can give you a hand."

That, of course, was the ideal moment for Etoile, distracted by her lambasting, to demonstrate her own incompetence. A sizable chunk was ripped out of her thigh by a particularly large bird as she missed it by a handsbreadth, unused to working with her left arm. She did manage to sever one of its wings on a second strike as it came back towards her, but the damage was done; blood was rapidly inundating the fabric around the wound, and a moment later, the pain came through and she staggered, barely managing to remain standing. "Bloody birds," she hissed through tightly-pressed teeth. Shit, shit, shit! Her options instantly dwindled heavily. The wound was extremely painful, hampering her ability to move around quickly. More than that, though, she didn't know if the bird had slashed open an artery or something, but the wound was bleeding more than she would've liked. If she passed out in the middle of this, the odds were heavily weighed into her being eaten rather quickly. She swore at herself for being so careless.

And this is what I get for relying on magic, she thought acidly. She'd been neglecting her swordsmanship practice in favor of running from Inquisitors, and now she was put into an impossible situation because of it. She spat a stream of bloody spittle, and realized that she'd bitten her cheek hard enough for it to bleed. Sliding the sabre into her mouth, she pressed her hand to the wound, grimly continuing to fight on and distracting herself with the impossible hope that just pressure could staunch the bleeding.

"If I fee a birvv affer thif, I'm going fo murvver if," she muttered to herself through the sword's handle, trying her best to pretend that there would be an 'after this.'

@Altered Tundra

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"Well, Red, got any ideas on how to deal with this if it is a trap? Gonna be hard to search for wards or whatever with all these murderous birds about." Laz made a gesture with his knife towards the swarming flock, tho it was quick to turn into a deadly slash as he saw another one of said murder birds take aim at him, deftly removing it's head from it's body mid-dive. He noted the blonde girl, Etoile(as she had so curtly put it), rush out to pull the blonde boy and his knightly companion back towards the doorway. While she did so, Laz lashed out at a few more of the rabid flock, only to have his attention drawn back to her as he heard her yelling at the kid.

The sight was amusing at first, but quickly turned somewhat horrific as he saw the girl get taken down by one of the large birds that assaulted them. It was hard to know for certain from where he was, but she looked to be on somewhat shaky footing after the attack. Meaning she'd have trouble getting back to the doorway on her own, and if the other two were having trouble fighting off the birds by themselves, he doubted they'd be able to do so while helping her back over. And he couldn't rush out to help, busy as he was making sure none of the feathery fiends made it down into the car below them. Which left only the red haired girl, who seemed content to simple watch everything go down, looking as if none of this really affected her.

"You know, if that sword of yours is for something other than decoration, mind using it to help Etoile get back over here?" Laz quickly dispatched two more birds, but a third one managed to get past his guard, jabbing a sharp beak into his shoulder. Grabbing the offending avian, Laz vented his frustration some by tossing the creature hard against the floor, followed by a sharp stomp to it's head. "Well? Don't just stand there and glare at me, Red. Do something, other than stand there, at the very least!"

Pagonia's mind raced with various thoughts as they dealt with the birds. This was ominous in every sense of the word and no one knew where these flying demons originated from. The young swordsman ran over to his younger brother, hoping he had something for him. It wasn't an ideal situation at all that Pagonia just wanted to find some answers or even a hint. Armor scratched from the claws of the birds, cuts upon his cheeks and forehead, exhausted from the constant action, and head pulsing with pain, Pagonia didn't feel as though they could continue to hold out against such overwhelming means. These overwhelming means only increased in severity as the birds joined together to swoop down upon the short red head girl that had been helping the brothers.

"LOOKOUT!" He yelled out, before his voice was drowned in the sound of rifles. Surprise was etched upon his face, confusion spreading rather quickly. He could only glance to see who their saviors were before turning his back to hide his face and armor. Cloak was pulled to a close to hide his armor and his hood risen over his face. Quickly sword was also sheathed to hide himself from the Inquisitors. They were the last thing anyone here wanted to see. A quick side step put him in front of Zestasia as to block the Inquisitors' view. "Zes, this is not good. If they see either of us, they could easily spot us."

Etoile let out a heavy whoosh of relief as the bird that was diving towards her was clocked in the face by the red girl's sword sheath. Despite the circumstances, she was once again struck by familiarity—didn't that sword look familiar to her? Something about the designs on the sheath sparked something in her memory, but she couldn't place it for the life of her. It was endlessly frustrating.

She shook her head. No time for that now. Muttering a quick "thanks," she kept pressure on the wound as best she could as she sheathed the sword and then limped her way back towards the car. And then, of course, just to make her day that much worse, there came a pretty decent-sized group of Inquisitors holding guns and popping them off at the birds with a deafening drumbeat staccato. One one hand, she thought, I think I'll live through the birds now. On the other there are Inquisitors to worry about, and they're usually a lot harder to fight than birds are, especially if I'm injured, crippled, and can't use magic. She was a competent swordswoman, of course; but she wasn't nearly competent enough to hold her own against a group of Inquisitors with guns even if she had full access to her dominant arm, and with her injury, running away was going to be much harder.

What was worse is that she actually recognized one of the Inquisitors, one who had stepped forth and was talking to the redheaded girl. She ground her teeth in frustration. Of COURSE it would have to be Anníbas, because why not make life harder. While his father Solvinius had been an effective and competent Inquisitor—personality traits that she valued quite highly—his son, while powerful, was a smarmy joker, nowhere near as serious as his father had been. And because of that, Etoile had been totally unable to stand him while they had been sharing ranks. She wasn't sure—it was impossible to be sure, really—but she had her suspicions as to who had found out about her digging and divulged it to the high Ecclesiae, and Anníbas was definitely up there. She had quite the vendetta against him, and he was the last person she wanted to deal with right now.

Also, to make things even worse, he would absolutely recognize her. Even without the uniform, her arm was a dead giveaway. If luck goes my way, she gritted her teeth, he's too busy dealing with demon birds to kill me right now.

Luck never went Etoile's way.