[center][h3][colour=ffd700]Itzi[/colour][/h3][/center]
[i]A City Burns[/i]

Itzamatul dodged and weaved through the crowds of panicked people as the sounds of explosions and gunfire rippled through the city. Even as she moved, she did so on a sort of autopilot as the sight of her old ship the [i]Even Giver[/i] played over and over. She’d been crew aboard the Zeppelin for almost five years, the longest she’d stayed in one spot since she’d left home…and now it was all gone.

What few personal items she’d owned, several months worth of accumulated pay she’d intended to send to her family, and that crew that’d become her friends…all burned…Hells she’d ‘ve burned with them too if she hadn’t stayed out for an extra beer or three. Her fugue broke as she walked into a stack of crates on the curb having been ‘ejected’ by the flow of the crowd. She had nowhere to actually go, and while ending up in the hands of the Communalists didn’t exactly fill her with joy, mindlessly running about was pointless. Taking a seat, she simply watched the panicked flow and waited, only for a flash of a silhouette down a side street to catch her eye amid the drifting smoke.

[i][colour=ffd700]THERE![/colour][/i] She thought as the smoke shifted again, the tail of a Zeppelin, far down the street. She closed her eyes and thought of the city map she’d poured over not long after the [i]Even Giver[/i] had made port. [colour=ffd700]That should be the military port…[/colour] She didn’t even really have a plan, she just sprang from her seat and started to push towards her new goal.
[hr]Inbur was a fair sized place and the crowds were thick, but in due time she reached the outer fence of the military port; across the way a Zeppelin sat forgotten [i]#27[/i] painted on her tail. Moving along the fence line, she came to a small man-gate and an empty gatehouse, whoever may have been sent to guard this gate having fled elsewhere. Testing the actual door, she found it locked, but a cursory inspection showed it to be the sort of lock only really suitable for keeping honest sorts out.

Looking about she saw no-one, partially because outside the fence it was a largely industrial area and partially because what people would be here also assumed that a military port would be likely to draw enemy fire. Reaching into the small of her back, she drew her pistol that’d been banging around there since she’d gone out for those beers; now she took careful aim and fired several shots, splintering the wood around the lock before giving the door a few heavy kicks. The wook cracked and the door moved. Another couple of kicks and another shot and the lock broke free of the door and she was in, legging it towards [i]#27[/i]. Reaching the Zeppelin, she saw several others, quite a few of them armed. Reaching the gangplank, she made a show of tucking away her (nearly empty) pistol and approaching with her hands visible. [colour=ffd700]”If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you…I’m a trained Zeppelin helmsman, and I’ve crewed ‘em for years, I can help get her going.”[/colour]