Dr Lambert squelched back toward the ship. As she got a bit closer she pinged Jack Mallory.

“Sir, the Captain has made a deal with the aliens. They’re going to help heal the wounded. Personally, I can’t wait to see what happens, but I don’t know my way around the civilians yet. Do they all have masks? Do we just get them out here and see what happens? I could use some help.”

---

“Copy that.” Zey replied to Ibarra.

“I look forward to our hunt.” Silbermine beamed, top lip folding up to reveal tombstone teeth.

The engineer then promptly left, leaving the Captain alone with Silbermine. His retinue stood in a loose pack behind him, watching the Tekeri camp nearby. There was a moment’s awkward silence.

“I have sent for tailors from a nearby town. They will bring the finest material.” The Glen began.

“Ah, perfect. Thank you. I was meaning to ask about that. I will ask the Ascendency as well.”

Silbermine scowled slightly, but carried on regardless. Zey couldn’t really discern his expression.

“Stone workers and engineers have arrived from across Mythadia. I’ve commanded them to begin work shoring up the ridge. Your temple is on unstable ground. Also, they can help buttress the walls to help prevent-”

“Lord Silbermine, we appreciate all your efforts. You have certainly been proactive with your aid…but I must insist you proceed with caution around my ship. It is very heavy but also very fragile right now. My crew are busy repairing the superstructure, and any changes to the lay of the land could undo all their work.”

Silbermine scratched his snout, thinking.

“I understand. The last thing I would wish on you is more destruction. What then can we do with these resources?”

It was then Zey’s turn to stroke her chin.

“What about fortifications?”

Silbermine’s ears flicked back violently. Zey thought it was in response to her question, but then some of his retinue turned and stared back out over the marshes.

Then she heard it - a blood curdling wail, like nails on a chalkboard. It wafted in from the North.

Within seconds, the Glen camp down the hill was alive with activity. An incredibly loud, bassy horn sounded.

“The Warden has come!” Silbermine breathed. His voice was equal parts excitement and…fear? He turned to look to the North as well. Zey walked to his side and squinted. She couldn’t see anything.

“Who is this Warden?”

“She protects the Northern Passage in the name of my House. A fearsome S’tor warrior.” Another horrible sound rolled up the hill, and Silbermine covered his ears.

“Ezra, tell me what you see.” Zey looked at the soldier, who was aiming down the sight of his rifle some three dozen paces away.

“Three big creatures with people riding them. They’re fast. Want me to take them down?”

“No, not yet.”

She looked to Silbermine.

“This is needlessly escalatory.”

“Quite the opposite! Wardens do not leave their post often. The Ascendency should feel honoured.”

After a few more moments, Zey was able to pick out three objects skimming through the lightly wooded marshes. They had long legs, big mouths and purply green, tractor-sized bodies. She couldn’t tell if they were naturally that cover or if they’d just been submerged in brackish water. There were tiny figures clutching their backs.

Zey turned off her translator and activated comms.

“Zey to Bridge, we have three bogeys approaching the lower camp. Track the leader and be ready to fire on my order.”

The creatures were nimble and fast for their size, picking a safe path through the marsh to the Glen camp in a matter of minutes. But they didn’t seem keen on getting close to the Glen that rushed out (hands over their ears) to greet them. Instead they let out vicious roars and stomped on the ground til the assembled reception moved back to at least forty paces. Their riders then got off.

All were in armour and carried big swords and shields on their backs, though the leader caught Zey’s eye. Their armour had exquisite yellow and green detailing that was clear to see, even from a distance. They were also very tall, head and shoulders over some of the Glen even with their antlers. They moved calmly and purposefully, but their whole frame was packed with tension. Like they could explode into action at any second.

This new group approached some of the watching Glen and exchanged a few words. Some people of the camp then pointed up the hill, to the Jotunheim. Behind the newcomers, their beasts promptly heaved like cats do when they’re coughing up fur balls. Opening their mouths, they each ejected a slimy figure onto the ground. Two helmeted S’tor guards and a manacled S’tor Thought mage.

Together, they made their way up the hill towards the Jotunheim.

@EliteCommander @Catharyn@Blizz @Starlance@Quest Abandoner

Kolvar Stilmyst

Arancini Barberio

Kolvar was somewhat pleased with the results of his demonstration. He was happy that life magic would prove to be quite useful in healing the injured crew. But he was always quite squeamish when it came to blood and parts being amputated. Even though he was excited to study human anatomy, he was starting to get a little hungry. His stomach rumbling and grumbling indicated that he should probably eat something. He hoped that the humans had prepared some vegetarian dishes. Kriliterans were strictly herbivores and eating any kind of meat was forbidden. He turned towards Itxaro who was obviously disturbed by what she just saw. “My apologies Miss Itxaro we were demonstrating to Miss Vigdis how life magic works, and how it could be used to heal severe wounds.” He understood why she was shocked, he was still trying to process what had happened himself.

The subject of transforming Itxaro into one of the native fauna would be possible but he didn’t see a reason for it. Joining the others where a large feast was prepared for them. He knew that he would not be able to eat properly with a Tekerian claw. So he transformed his claw into a S’torian hand so it would be easier to eat his food. Gently picking up the utensils while eating something called a “Salad.” He looked curiously at Shirik who told what he assumed was a joke. Responding by giving a stifled laugh. Looking quite worried that something unsavoury was going to be soon approaching the ship

His attention was focused on the eccentric man named Arancini who was trying to strike up a conversation with him. "So is this Great Creator your god?” He seemed equally as curious about them as he was about the humans. “Umm yes, they have created the world around us and the races that inhabit this world. Gifting us knowledge that would help us survive and prosper.” He seemed to misunderstand the questions. He assumed he meant the Kriliterans god and not the Tekerian god. A misunderstanding that would raise some suspicions.

Arancini offered him some pieces of meat to which Kolvar politely declined. Instead eating mostly vegetation, and nuts that were being provided.

“Sir, the Captain has made a deal with the aliens. They’re going to help heal the wounded. Personally, I can’t wait to see what happens, but I don’t know my way around the civilians yet. Do they all have masks? Do we just get them out here and see what happens? I could use some help.”

"I see, Dr Lambert," Jack replied, an irritated look flashing across his face but never reaching his voice. He glanced back at the other department heads. "I was unaware they'd progressed so far in their studies of human anatomy. Did the captain say how soon she'd want this?"

On the one hand, they'd have wounded people returning to duty quickly, less work for the medical department. On the other hand, once the locals knew how to fix humans, they'd also know how to injure and kill them, as well. But humanity had been doing it for millennia, why expect any advantages here?

His cool gaze shifted to the doctor and he gave him a slight nod.

As K-A units of measurement were compared to human ones, Vigdis took careful notes and when it was done, she sent them to the ship. Wodan should be able to edit the translator to also convert measurements as it went, doing away with all the manual conversions and she also attached a note suggesting the translator also immediately translate between base ten and base eight numbers.

Vigdis’ amused grin at Ixtaro’s confusion remained concealed by the mask. But when Ixtaro tried to treat the healed hand, she had to laugh out loud. Vigdis may not have known history through a comprehensive lens, but she knew it through an engineering one, and like most socialists before her, Ixtaro saw a problem - real or perceived - and then proceeded to go and ‘solve’ it without having enough information about it or even the required know-how. At least this time no one’s turned a barely-shielded reactor into an oversized roman candle or tried to use half-century old naval ordnance. Silently, Vigdis gestured to the severed hand and to the regrown one. ”Get in line.” She said flatly, removing one of the leaves that wrapped the food Shirik had gifted her and wrapped the severed hand. The lab folks would have some fun with it later. She was going to say something else, but was rudely interrupted by an unholy screech. What subgenre were the three metalheads playing again? But no, that couldn’t have been them, this came from far away…

The cause of the noises soon came to view. The creatures looked… wrong. What they did afterward even more. She turned to Kareet and Shirik before they left. ”Alright, what the fuck guys?” She echoed Ixtaro’s words.

Nellara nodded in silence as she heard General Kvarr's advice. Truth be told, Nellara knew she would find it to be considerably hard for her to show courtesy to someone as Silbermine, who simply invaded their territory, giving them no semblance of respect while doing so. and if the reinforcements Silbermine called were even a bit similar to him, Nellara would likely have problems in keeping silent while being disrespected.

"I hope the reinforcements Silbermine asked will show us the respect and courtesy that is expected of a guest inside our lands. Hopefully they will understand the fact that bringing an army inside our territory is already an offense." Nellara said with a heavy sigh.

"But I warn you, General... Should they not understand how grave their actions are and how damaging they might be to the diplomatic relationship between our nations, calm words might not suffice to show them we demand to be treated with respect." Nellara said with a harsh expression.

With the general changing subjects and asking more about the humans, Nellara pushed those thoughts about the glen reinforcements aside for a moment as she reported what she knew about their new 'neighbors' to the General.

"Indeed, General. Their arrival wasn't intended and seemed to be caused by a malfunction on their ship. Even now, their crew seems to be working tirelessly to repair it." she replied.

"Despite the... issues with Silbermine, the humans seem to be quite receptive. I believe they would have no issues with accepting to met us in a less 'formal' meeting. Some of them have already shown a desire to do so, wanting to know more about this world and our culture." Nellara continued.

"In fact, they will probably find such proposition to be quite pleasant... Considering the political issues and the tension the last meetings had due to Silbermine's invasion of our territory and his goals regarding the humans' ship." Nellara finished as she looked to the General.

Just as Nellara finished explaining, a loud horn made her immediately stand up, alert. Her expression immediately hardened, knowing that the glen reinforcements had finally arrived. Their way of announcing themselves already left quite a bad impression on Nellara, which immediately killed her hopes that they might understand how delicate that situation was to the diplomatic relations between both their nations.

"It seems the army Silbermine called to invade Ascendancy territory have finally arrived, General Kvarr..." Nellara replied, with a furious expression as she turned to the General.

It was exactly at that moment that Shirik entered their tent, announcing the arrival of the so called 'warden' the glen talked about, together with the fact that Silbermine was already talking with Zeynep about it.

"Thank you for the warning, Shirik." Nellara said, nodding to Shirik before she turned towards the General again.

"We might have to give the warden an equally 'firm' reception in order to reinforce our position, general. Courtesy aside, it seems only appropriate to greet their army with our army as well." Nellara suggested, intending to do as the General himself said earlier and be sure to show the Warden and Silbermine that they would not give them any ground.

Words spilled out of Itxaro's translator as Kareet gently pulled their decidedly-intact limbs from her grasp. The translator formed a coherent sentence, but in her frantic state it took Itxaro several moments longer to fully understand what they meant. When she finally processed what had just happened, she felt a surge of anger, then disbelief, found a brief moment of humor in it, and then finally settled for exhaustion, slumping onto a metal crate that served as a chair.

Kareet, too, seemed a little confused; at least, confused by Itxaro. "No, no, I... Nevermind, doesn't matter. I'm just glad you have two working hands again. Claws, I guess," Itxaro replied, quietly packing up the medkit and tucking it under the table as if to hide her mistake. "Next time you decide to chop off your arm for laughs, give a girl a warning, yeah?"

Kareet further explained that any life mage would be able to heal any similarly grievous injuries on a human, given adequate anatomy lessons. Itxaro's prosthetic reflexively at the thought, as if protesting the idea of being replaced by flesh and blood. The possibility of becoming fully organic again both excited and frightened her, though she wasn't sure why. Steel can be replaced, but muscle and nerves? A bit trickier, Itxaro considered, and even in her own mind knew it was a weak and fearful excuse. Too bad we didn't bring along a therapist. We'll all probably need one, however this trip ends.

Kareet expanded her knowledge of life magic, mentioning that Kerchak would be able to turn them into a variety of creatures, if they so desired. Itxaro raised an eyebrow at this. "Ok, so you turn me into a bird. Then what? I immediately know how to fly? Or do we just fumble around until we figure it out?" Itxaro asked. She didn't doubt that Kerchak could do this, but wasn't sure it was the best idea for her or her human comrades.

Then again, flying could be fun.

Itxaro looked to Vigdis, who, as she guessed, was laughing her ass off. She flashed a vicious scowl at the Venerian engineer, but the grim façade was broken by an embarrassed grin. "Yeah yeah, keep laughing and I'll have Kareet chop off your head, see if that'll grow back too," Itxaro replied, a little shakily but in decent humor. "Sorry, by the way," she added, a weak apology for her rough handling of Vigdis moments earlier.

Shirik interjected with some words Itxaro thought were meant to comfort her, but the image of a mangled man knitting himself back together after being torn in half only made her queasy. Mercifully, his story was cut short by a sharp horn blowing in the distance; judging from what little she knew about the Glenn, she had a feeling more had just arrived, which was confirmed by Shirik before he left the table.

The air was tight and strained as a stretched skin, and Itxaro could feel it. Her hand checked to see if her holster still contained the revolver. The wheel gun still sat there, secure, which made Itxaro feel a little better. Her eyes sought out the source of the horn. She wished she hadn't.

Hideous, massive creatures skittered through the marsh on stilt-like legs, nightmarish beasts with riders. Itxaro watched in disgust as the creatures shivered and vomited people, living people, who then proceeded to climb through the foothills towards them. Itxaro looked to the aliens at the table as she slowly stood up, mentally preparing to greet or shoot the new arrivals, whichever the situation called for.

"Friends of yours?" she asked hopefully, but judging from how the Glenn flocked around them, she seriously doubted it. "If Nellara hasn't already, she's gonna have a stroke when she sees this. If we make it out alive in the next two hours, it'll be a damn miracle." Itxaro let out a deep sigh before looking to the others. "Well, no time like the present. Let's go."

---

Kareet reacted little to Itxaro’s initial panic. It seemed that she had figured out what was happening, so the problem was solved, as far as Kareet was concerned. She did seem to be curious about the particulars of shapeshifting, and though not a Life mage herself, Kareet was still more than knowledgeable enough to give an answer. “Shapeshifting can be disorienting at first, but a reasonable amount of practice can awaken a creature’s muscle memory. It depends on how similar it is to what you already understand. Moving around on two legs, you should be able to do right away. For me, moving as a Glen took a few hours. Something as complex as flight? It took me regular practice over the course of a week or two. Not too much of an investment, for something so useful.”

Ultimately, the horn that sounded out across the area signaled what would likely be a complete interruption of this little meeting. Kareet supposed she was glad to have learned what she had, though that would not stop her from being annoyed. She watched the approach of the tall creatures with considerably less concern as the Humans around her. Her attitude was practically nonchalant, in comparison. “Those are Zarseaks. They are native to the marshlands between here and Lake Núr. They naturally carry their young in their mouths, so they can be trained to do the same for passengers. They don’t navigate the mountains too well, but the Glen use them widely for transport in the marshes and plains. I imagine some of Silbermine’s reinforcements have arrived.”

---

---

“I believe it would be beneficial for me to speak to the Humans, less formally. I would like to get an impression of…”

The horn interrupted Kvarr, though he merely tilted his head and listened for the moment. It was not long before someone new arrived in the tent. Briefly, Kvarr seemed noticeably more interested in Shirik than the arrival of the Mythadian forces. An Iriad, by appearance, still alive while seemingly burning from within from flame. He did not know of Kareet’s original purpose out here, but the stories of someone like Shirik were not unknown to him. Still, he did not choose to comment for the moment. Rather, he put his focus on the arrival of the Warden.

Nellara’s response was not unexpected, though by Kvarr’s reaction, perhaps still slightly disappointing. “I feel no need to meet posturing with posturing. Regardless, if I know the Warden like I think I do, I doubt that is her intention here. I would suggest instead that you accompany me to the Mythadian camp. We can speak with Warden Esedel, and we may finally make some progress here.”

“As soon as possible, sir. Please advise.” Dr Lambert replied to Mallory as she clanked up the telescopic docking ramp back into the Jotunheim.

“Sir, we’re tracking multiple large foot mobiles.” Clara Anselm contacted Mallory from the Bridge.

“Captain has requested the rail gun be made ready.”

---

Esedel stalked up the hill, trailed on either side by her two guards. Behind traipsed one of the Thought mages from her Northern Passage bulwark. They were closely flanked by their handlers; their manacles clanked as they stumbled up the rocky incline.

The six S’tor were followed up the slope at a distance by some of the Glen vassals from the lower camp. Perhaps they had heard of the stories surrounding the Warden, and wished to see history being made for themselves. Or perhaps they just didn’t want to be left alone with the Zarseaks, who bayed and scratched at the earth as they watched their riders depart.

As she climbed, rasping breath escaping into the warm late morning air, Esedel studied the thing everyone had come to see. A large, flattened house made of metal, fallen from the sky carrying strangers who spoke in tongues. As soon as she heard the news, she knew she had to see for herself. The sight didn’t disappoint.

As they scaled the hill, avoiding the large fragments of wreckage around them, a crowd of people came into view on the ridge. They had been spotted. Esedel identified Silbermine first, some Glen and Tekeri soldiers next. Then she spotted some short, smooth-skinned creatures wearing peculiar masks - were these the unimpressive specimens what all the fuss was about? The smell of cooked fish pervaded her nostrils - her stomach contracted and her mouth filled with saliva.

Then she spotted Kvarr approaching with an armoured Castigator and a hooded Iriad. She smiled, revealing long rows of sharp teeth.

Esedel looked down on everyone in the assembled reception party when she finally reached the flat clearing. Without acknowledging anyone else, she strode over to Silbermine and knelt before him, both arms crossed across one knee. Even in this pose, her eyes were not much lower than his.

“My lord…”

Her voice crackled like a forest ablaze and caught in the wind. It sounded unlike anything else Zey had heard before, sending a shiver up her spine and wrinkles across her face.

“I have answered your call, and am yours to command.”

The Warden stood again. For a moment, Silbermine was speechless. Then he nodded and gestured to Zey who stood beside him.

“This is Zeynap, the leader of the esteemed Human clan. I hereby command you to keep them safe from all harm, as our honoured guests.”

Esedel stared at Silbermine until he started to shuffle awkwardly, then turned her whole body to stare down at Zey; goosebumps rippled along both the Captain’s arms.

“Zzsssseynap…well met.” She hissed, lizard tongue poking out of her snout as she leaned down closer. Two icy blue eyes bored holes straight into Zey. She was so shaken by this S’tor that she’d unconsciously begun glanding Deep Work again. Her hyper sensitive hearing picked up the reassuring click of the safety coming off Ezra’s rifle from behind her.

“P-pleased to meet you, erm…Warden.”

Esedel nodded like a cobra, mesmerised by the snake charmer’s instrument. She then rose to her full height and addressed everyone, looking at each person in turn.

“Greetings, I am Esedel, Eternal Warden of the Northern Passage of Keraknúr. We have travelled a long way, and are very hungry. We would eat with our friends from Mythadia and from The Ascendency.” Her gaze fell to Kvarr at the end.

Kolvar Stilmyst

Kolvar looked annoyed by all of Arancini’s questions about him and his people. It was quite visible on his face how frustrated he was being pestered by the human. Lots of concerns were on his mind. Including the fact that a war was about to happen between the humans and Silbermine’s army. It seemed more of Silbermine’s army had arrived to try and tip the scale in their favour. The very thought of being part of this incoming war made him quite anxious. Although he didn’t want the humans to be enslaved by Silbermine. However, he did not think he would be able to help the humans combat Silbermine’s army. There was an ancient avian fauna that was used by the Kriliterans before their mastery of life magic.

Excusing himself from the table and transforming into an avian creature flying towards the two armies.Perching himself onto a branch that was close enough to hear what they were talking about. To him, it seemed like the start of a conversation. Being cautious of Esedel and others that had recently arrived. The more armed folks coming in, the higher the tension of this situation would get. Nevertheless, he was still confident that cooler heads will prevail. Going back to the table after transforming back into his Tekerian form. “I apologies I had to go to the um washroom.” He said making up an excuse for his absence

"But you can make a second skyship just like this one, since you have the numbers?" J'eon asked. "Since you can shape it so precisely?"

---

"Rail gun be made ready, aye," Mallory replied back. "Wodan, what's the current state of the rail gun? How many shots is the ship capable at this time?"

While there had been a few repairs made, it was unclear if this was going to be a single shot or if they had the option of a follow-up. He really wanted to make sure any projectile launched would go to where they wanted it. There was also wear and tear of the weapon to consider. While the projectile was inside a sabot that would fall away once it exited the barrel, thus protecting the rails from undue wear and tear, there was always some degradation of the rails.

"Gentlemen, to your posts," he stated, heading towards the bridge.

Despite everything she and the general talked about, Nellara still stood firm on her opinion that they shouldn't lower their head that much to the Mythadians. Respect and courtesy should only be given to those who treated them with the same respect and courtesy... And not to people such as Silbermine, whom invaded their territory, stepped on their pride and authority, simply doing whatever he wanted while hiding behind a title, a 'rank' that was unbefitting and undeserved for someone like him.

Regardless of her opinions though, Nellara simply nodded her head in silence as the general asked her to accompany him to the Mythadian encampment to speak with the Warden. Even if her ideas and thoughts were different from General Kvarr, the amount of experience he had, the amount of wars and conflicts he had been through were undeniable. Besides... Nellara had no doubt that even the incredibly patient and tolerant General Kvarr would lose his patient if pushed too far... But that would depend on how the Warden would behave after their arrival...

Even though General Kvarr had chosen the more tolerant and patient approach to the situation at hand, Nellara's posture was still a cold, harsh and militaristic one. While not outright showing any signs of hostility, her posture and sharp eye were enough to make it clear that Nellara wasn't treating that situation lightly and was more than ready to act... If necessary.

The moment the Warden kneeled in front of Silbermine, Nellara found it hard to hide her disgust, which might have been apparent in her expression despite making a 'moderate' effort to hide it. Despite that, it would still be quite evident that her disgust and harsh stares were more directed towards Silbermine than the warden, who had just arrived.

"Honored guests, only not 'yours'." Nellara added as Silbermine spoke, with a cold and harsh tone, clearly indicating that she would not give ground regarding to whom that territory they were standing belonged to.

---

As it happened, all three groups had come together in what was roughly neutral ground outside of the ship. General Kvarr gathered quickly which of the Humans was this Captain “Zeynap”. It was a strange name to him, but he supposed it would be no stranger than most else he expected to learn about them. Even as they stepped out of their camp and towards the gathering of the newly-arrived Mythadian soldiers, Nellara would notice not a hint of concern from him.

Before they reached the others Kvarr just had a few, quiet words for Nellara. “Just remember who you are. Stand firm and with your head held high, knowing what respect you deserve to command. Your will, your conviction, is what makes it true. Lose that, and you lose everything that comes with it. Blustering, insults, threats, they are all unnecessary. They make you seem as if you feel the need to prove yourself, rather than just knowing it to be true. That is how to earn the respect of a S’tor warrior.”

Kvarr paid little mind to words from either Silbermine or Nellara. As he approached, his focus simply went to the Warden. He waited, patiently and politely for her to introduce herself to the Humans, then took a few steps forward. He had no hesitation about walking straight up to her, then reaching out his right hand to her left shoulder, just as she did the same to him. It was a S’tor greeting, though far from a formal salute. It was quite a familiar form of greeting.

“Fair skies and warm sun, sister.” Kvarr said.

Once he stepped back, Kvarr directed his gaze back towards Zey. “It is my pleasure to meet you, Zeynap. I am General Kvarr of Arcaeda. I understand you have found a way to learn S’toric quite quickly, yes? I admire your ingenuity. It is to my shame that I am not in a position to host a feast for all of you, but I can say that the Archmagister wishes to give her greetings and extend her hospitality to all of her guests in the Ascendancy. Now, I am of a mind with Esedel; we may not be supplied for a feast, but a good meal does sound pleasant.”

Kvarr tilted his head and extended out a hand towards Silbermine. “Lord Silbermine, my good man, have your people bring up some of your stocks. We shall do the same. I am sure between both of us, we should be able to fashion a meal palatable to all of us here.”

---

---

A hologram of one of Wodan’s ravens appeared close alongside Mallory following his question. “The railgun was not deployed during the crash and did not suffer any meaningfully damage. It is fully operational; however, as with all other systems, power is a critical concern. The Jotunheim’s reactors are still inactive, and the railgun has among the greatest power draw out of any system, behind the FTL drive and deflector barriers. Even at reduced power, a single shot from the weapon could drain weeks from our remaining energy reserves. I recommend its use only as an absolute last resort.”

"I don't suppose there's a hill we somehow overlooked that's positioned just right next to Silbermine's camp that if we shot at it, an avalanche would swallow it?" Jack sighs, stepping onto the bridge.

"Status reports, all stations," the XO orders, even though he, crewmember Anselm, and Wodan were the only ones present. "Do we know the location of potential hostiles?"

It would be a good idea to know who they were aiming at.

"Wodan," Jack added. "Remind me to check with Engineering about building a couple of recon and armed drones."

Information was key, and the ability to extend their power via the air as needed. While it couldn't compete with the railgun, so far nothing they'd seen so far would match a drone.

“Walking up the hill now. They left their mounts at the bottom of the hill. Mean looking motherfuckers. See?” Anselm put a feed from one of the Jotunheim’s remaining exterior cameras on Mallory’s screen. The left hand-side showed six large figures traipsing up the incline. The right hand side showed three tank-like quadrupeds fidgeting nervously on the edge of the swamp.

“They move quick. I’m not sure I can dial the cannon in for a second shot at the mounts quick enough if they charge.”

---

“...draw prey to the darkling plain, brother.” Esedel rasped, squeezing Kvarr’s shoulder and looking down at him with a razor-sharp smile before letting go.

Zey tore her gaze away from the Warden to an equally imposing, if very different-looking and acting, S’tor. The Deep Work she’d glanded had steadied her nerves considerably.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. My thanks to the Archmagister. We can certainly eat; we were going to go look for something that fell from the ship, but it can wait a little longer. I’ll have the crew bring out our passengers and we can make some introductions.” She didn’t deign it necessary to explain where the S’toric echo that translated everything she said was coming from.

Silbermine grasped General Kvarr’s hand and gave it a hearty squeeze. He felt much more confident, now that his greatest warrior had arrived.

“Never let it be said that House Silbermine came unprepared for a feast. I’ll have my bannerglen bring up beer, bread, and music!” Placing three fingers into his snout, the Glen noble produced a loud whistle with four distinct notes. Noise from the camp down the hill increased immediately.

Tyreese Darnell had been finding different ways to work out since the rec area was given over to living space. That morning he’d been furiously deepening trenches with a spade while listening to vigorous music. But now even he had noticed that others had appeared. He appeared around the side of the ship, his large bare torso glistening with sweat and the bottom of his mask fogged up.

“Captain, what's happening?”

Zey looked at him.

“We’re having lunch! Put a shirt on, for God’s sake. Zey to Bridge, you can stand down. They’re here to help negotiate peace, I think. Mallory, come on out here with the wounded and any civilians that want to stretch their legs. They’re going to have to face these aliens at some point. Balance of power may never be so balanced again.”

Esedel clapped Kvarr on the back as they moved towards the hastily arranged table and grilled food station. To S’tor it was just a friendly pat, but it probably would have knocked an unprepared Human flat on their face.

“Brother, you have lost weight. What do they feed you in the Ascendency? Soon you will be shorter and weaker than me!” While the Warden was taller than her male counterpart, she was still a little lighter.

Esedel clapped eyes on Nellara, who was close to Kvarr.

“Well met, Castigator. Do we owe the disciplined organisation of Tekeri soldiers to you?”

---

True to Silbermine’s word, the Glen did their best to provide a feast. Being herbivores, it did involve a lot of shrubbery and fungi, but the sweet and sticky cask beer more than sufficed at washing it down. The minor nobility that had answered Silbermine’s call for aid all scaled the hill to join the meal; they took off some armour and grouped together around their master to eat and drink. Soon they were laughing and slapping the table while recounting tales.

Zey sat down on a crate at the head of the table closest to the ship and nibbled on the piece of fish Shirik had given her in a leaf.

The wounded came out, as did a dozen of the more courageous passengers. Thankfully, there were just enough masks. Danny Varen came out on his break with a shotgun to watch protectively over them. His bald, masked head was covered by a camo boonie and his skinny, pale tattooed body was covered by a grey sleeveless vest emblazoned with “ESA” and blue cargo shorts. Dr Lambert came back out as well.

Darnell helped himself to a draught of beer then began helping others, watched curiously by the natives.

“Vigdis, Itxaro, beer?”

Esedel had a voracious appetite, devouring her food like someone may steal it from her at any moment. She glanced over at Shirik in between mouthfuls. As the administrator of one of Mythadia’s biggest refugee camps at the Northern Passage, she was desensitised to strange beings and fantastical mutations. But now, up close, she felt an unplaceable sense of familiarity.

“You. Have we met before? Your smell is…familiar.” Esedel blinked after trying to catch Shirik’s attention; her eyelids slid horizontally over her grey-blue eyeballs.

Vigdis stared into space disappointedly for a moment, having either overestimated J’eon’s available brainpower or misunderstood his question, leaning to the former. ”No. You need tools to make a horsesh- sword. We need tools to make ships. Except you need an anvil, hearth, bellows, tongs and some hammers. That won’t cut it here. Knowing math helps us come up with the thing so it works as intended as efficiently as possible, but math can’t influence the world.”

Vigdis’ chuckles came back anew during Ixtaro’s beheading tirade, but it gave her a weird idea. ”Would a new me grow from the severed head because that’s where the brain is, or would a new head grow from the body because that’s the path of least resistance? Or could you do both and have two of me here. That would help a lot, actually. Until the clone got jealous of my life and tried to kill me and take my place.” Vigdis grinned, waving a hand over being shoved out of the way. The ends justifies the means, even if she was mistaken, she was trying to save a life.

Kareet’s explanation of the Zarseak transportation method wasn’t making the scene any better. ”There has got to be a less disgusting way to travel than this. This is even worse than driving a Hyundai… if only just so. Who even thought of that?” Some troubled soul, no doubt about that in her mind.

She didn’t like what she was seeing. A respected figure showing deference to Silbermine. There’ll be no living with the nobleman now. ”Crap. Now he’s never gonna get off his high horse. And we’ll need to figure out another figure of speech, applying this one to a centaur evokes images in my mind and it’s hard to keep a straight face.” Vigdis said aside to Ixtaro. At least the Ascendancy Dragonborn and this Warden seemed to be on good terms, or good at pretending to be, that was something.

---

Vigdis joined the feast, if only sticking to bits of the fish Shirik had given her. She did try a small sample of the Glen beer, just barely managing not to spit it out immediately after. Leaving it to be forgotten on the landfill of history, she turned to Kareet, whom she stayed close to, figuring having a native guide on hand could only be beneficial. ”Would you like to continue, or take a break and make a bet on how long until Silbermine and Nellara are teetering on the edge of an honor duel to the death again?”

---

If there was sarcasm in Vigdis’ questions, Kareet did not pick up on it. If only because there was some basis for her to give an answer. “I have read stories of master Life mages being able to reattach a severed head on the battlefield, but I cannot confirm their veracity. Unsurprisingly, it is an especially rare event for someone to lose their head while one of Kanth-Aremek’s top Life mages happens to be less than a minute or so away to reattach it. There have been successful tests with recapitation on simpler creatures in a controlled environment, but for obvious reasons, such tests have never been performed on a person.”

---

Regardless of what her preferences for the evening might have been, Kareet nevertheless joined in this impromptu feast. It seemed that the Archmagister had seen fit to send one of her top generals, Kvarr, to deal with the mess at the border. She had seen him before, in one of his public addresses in Arcaeda, though they had never really met. Everyone knew his reputation, though. He was known for his friendly nature to friends and strangers alike. She had heard stories of him sharing drinks with patrons of taverns in the Ground District, if he happened to be nearby when he felt like having a drink. Of course, that reputation did little justice to the lethal efficiency he had been known for during the wars back in his homeland.

Kareet almost appeared startled when Vigdis spoke up to her, specifically, at the feast. “Kareet was…not one who was especially prone to small talk. Or socializing in general, but that appeared to be what Vigdis was doing. When she took the time to speak with someone, it was generally with purpose; yet, she could see this as being valuable. With most of Kanth-Aremek’s cultures, she was educated enough to be able to get by, but there was no literature she could read to learn how to interact with Humans. At least, she had not been given any as of yet. There was something for her to learn from this that could make the trouble worth it. “I…do not think that would be likely. Glen do not carry out deadly duels, and they are…exceptionally rare in the Ascendancy. Well, I suppose most duels and sparring matches are fought to the ‘death’ in a manner of speaking, but with a Life mage on hand, they are perfectly safe.” She explained.

"If they have numbers that tell them how to shape their skyship," J'eon rumbled, "Then they can make a small one...."

The Glen blacksmith smiled, then drained his mug.

---

"There was a flotilla of English ships, back in the age of sail," Mallory smiled, "damaged at sea during a storm. They needed the shelter of a harbor to do repairs, but the harbor they found belong to the Spaniards, their enemies. Still, they had the fort outgunned, so they made an agreement with the mayor. They would make repairs and replenish their supplies, and they would not attack the town."

The cameras were picking up the feast, he watched as the crew ate local food, not unlike the pot-lucks he'd seen in the service and as a kid. He wondered what their share was?

"Anyway, what should appear a few days later but a Spanish fleet!" Jack frowned, his face lit by the lights of the consoles. He continued his lecture. "The captain rushed to meet with the mayor to reconfirm their agreement, and the captain of the Spanish ships was there, and they all agreed the cease-fire would continue. In fact, they wanted to hold a feast, inviting the crews of both fleets. And of course, nobody would be armed."

Jack sighed, leaning back as he watched the crowd.

"One of them, Drake, noticed that the Spaniards were doing something with one of the tables, and looked under the tablecloth to find weapons stacked there. When he alerted his captain, the Spaniards launched their surprise attack. Drake and a handful of the crewmen managed to fight their way out and back to their ships and managed to escape, but a few of the ships and many crewmen were captured by the Spaniards. Many of them would be prisoners for years."

"Francis Drake became a famous British seaman, knighted by Queen Elizabeth," he added. "But first, he needed to escape. And our job, Wodan, is to give our crew that opportunity should they need it."

Despite the disturbing image Vigdis' proposed cloning technique planted in her head, Itxaro couldn't help but laugh. "Good point, we'll keep you in one piece for now. The last thing we need right now is another Vigdis running around," she joked, nervously eying the new arrivals from their vantage point.

Kareet explained their strange method of transportation, and while it seemed safe enough, Itxaro decided if they ever took a road trip using those monsters, she'd be riding on top. Either that, or she'd have a life mage transform her into hawk or something. Or just, you know, walk. Probably safest.

Itxaro watched as Zey spoke with the new arrival, the Warden of the North. Pretty nice title. Beats "doctor" by a mile. The warden, like all S'tor she assumed, towered over almost everyone present. Zey seemed intimidated, and rightfully so. If things went awry she was well within striking distance of the lizard creature's hulking mass. However, things did not go wrong; in fact, there was a party.

---

"Vigdis, Itxaro, beer?"

Though the words came from the Jotunheim's most loathed crewmember, it may as well have been the voice of angels to Itxaro. She'd been milling about awkwardly during the festivities, flitting to and fro like a moth around a light. She wasn't typically like this in social settings, but everything was just so damn strange. So Darnell's offer of a drink was like a life raft thrown to a drowning woman.

"God, yes please."

Itxaro took the offered drink in both hands, and it was absolutely necessary to do so; the Glen cups were decidedly not made with humans in mind. She felt like a child holding this enormous wooden mug, but at least she didn't have to find something for her twitchy hands to do. Itxaro brought the beer to her lips and drank deeply. The alcohol burned her throat and she panted the hot fumes.

"Wow. Not bad for a bunch of horses. Thanks, Darnell," Itxaro. It was a far cry from anything humans had now, but Itxaro was no stranger to renaissance fairs all over the USASR, where enthusiasts cooked up their own "historically accurate" beer, and this Glen-beer was closer to that than anything. Sweet and strong like mead, with no carbonation, but 20 other alien flavors competed in her mouth that she couldn't come close to identifying. Vigdis, on the other hand, looked like she was struggling to keep hers down. She wanted to ask what booze they cooked up in those zeppelins that hovered over Venus that made her turn her nose up at some good ole fashioned alien hooch, but the engineer was locked in conversation with Kareet.

A couple more swigs and Itxaro was more relaxed, her body just beginning to tingle and grow warm. She hadn't bothered to check with Silbermine on the drink's alcohol content. Itxaro was feeling so comfortable, in fact, that she did something totally out of character.

"Castigator Nellara! Enjoying the party?" Itxaro asked as she finally zeroed in on the Tekeri. In part, Itxaro was curious to learn more about her, especially the nation she represented, but Itxaro also wanted to keep the representative far from Silbermine and his warband, especially the Warden. World War K-A wasn't happening on her watch. Mundane, pointless conversation was Itxaro's goal, at least to start.

"Is all music on Kanth-Aremek this bad, or is it just the Glen's?" As she spoke, a harsh cacophony of horns and braying broke out from the improvised band that made Itxaro wince. It was all drums and horns, but in the worst ways. Still, the Glen seemed to enjoy the songs as they sang along in their strange, reedy voices, stomping their hooves to the rhythm. "I mean, we've got some mad stuff back home too, don't get me wrong. In the USASR, there's this band, Muro a Muro. All their stuff sounds like five songs all playing at once. But this... Really, not great."