XXIV

An explosion rocked the Airship, causing the scaffolding Adrian was on to sway precariously, the taut steel wires groaning in protest of the movement that it was never made to endure. He fought the urge to close his eyes against the movement, knowing full well that it would do nothing to help him. Somewhere up ahead a bolt sheared off, shooting like a ball fired from a musket and tearing right through the canvas wall, it would seem that wall only needed a small hole in it, like a damn holding against a river that develops a small crack the entire side if the canvas ripped away in a gods-awful ripping sound that would no doubt haunt his dreams. Giving Adrian to get a good glimpse of the sky outside, it seemed so peaceful, when it was looked at from the ground, but up here…

He looked at the door, the one that he had been hurled into and sighed. He hurt everywhere, and by that he literally meant everywhere, somehow he had slammed into the door and not fallen unconscious, how he had managed that he never could have guessed, but he decided to take it as the blessing it was. Either way the door was closed, twisted and jammed in such a way that no matter how hard he slammed into it again he doubted it would budge, not that he even wished to test that theory at the moment, seeing as he was pretty sure that if he did slam himself against the door he might shatter like a piece of rather precious and fragile glass. He glanced over at the railing and wondered if he could shimmy across like he had last time, only to have the ship shudder in such a way as to clear that thought right out of his mind, nope, not in a million years would he do something so monumentally stupid, at least not twice that was. So instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out his tin, or at least that was what he wanted to do, in actuality he reached into his pocket and realized the small tin of reagents was no longer there. Cursing to himself he checked his other pocket but he knew there was no way it would be there, he never kept it on that side of his body. It must have fallen out when the explosion hit, of course...

He looked at his hands and realized he still had the ring on his thumb and his middle finger was still coated in the Ichor and Calmine mixture, it was not the most effective spell to do what he needed to do but that really didn't matter, it would still get the job done. Smiling he stood back from the door a few paces and snapped his fingers, the Ichor Calmine compound striking the engraved metal band and a sudden burst of wind projected itself, practically ripping the door and frame off of its bolted stud, twisting it easier than a child crumpled paper. Quickly stepping through he decided to retrace his steps back to the small airship that he had infiltrated on, if it could get him up here then perhaps it could also get him down. It would appear however that he was not the only person to have that idea. As he opened the door he found himself face to face with almost ten soldiers of the Empire, each one of them attempting to cram themselves into the small space in the ship’s interior. He froze in place, momentarily forgetting he was dressed like they were and for all appearances just another Kurtz soldier.

“Well come on!” one of them shouted to him, waving the temporarily stunned and flustered Adrian over, “do you want to just stand there and die?” Adrian knew the answer to that question and started walking across the deck towards the craft. He had made it almost the full way across the deck when another shudder went through the ship, causing it to buck and writhe under his feet, he fell to his knees, one hand reaching out to lace itself into the metal mesh that made up the walkway even as another hand stretched out and grabbed onto the bar that spanned the top of the short walkway wall. As he climbed to his feet the loud sound of a door banging open and slamming on metal caused him to spin around. Standing there was a disheveled man, his clothes were burnt in patches, his hair mussed and his face was a mess of blood and grease, though the blood was likely not his own or if it was then it was from a superficial wound. Disheveled as he was there was still no mistaking the markings of an officer, though he was missing the high plumed hat that members of his rank seemed to always wear with such pride despite the fact they made the men such good targets.

“You there,” he pointed at Adrian, “I need you to return to the command room and guard the information stored there, it is vital to the empire,” those were the words that came out of his mouth, though what he actually meant was more in line with “you there, I need you out of the way so I can have the last spot on this dirigible.” Adrian looked at the man, his face impassive, though there was a slight defiant light in his eyes. Another rocking explosion caused the man to stumble forward a few feet, practically putting him face to face with Adrian, who gave him his best smile and then promptly slammed his fist into the man’s gut. The look of surprise on the officer’s face was almost comical as he bent over his arms covering his stomach. Likely the man was a paid commissioned officer, an empire Nobel no doubt that had never been struck before in his life. Unfortunately, there were men like that not only in Kurtz but also in Helheim aswell, it was an issue his father had been working to correct for as long as Adrian could remember, but to no avail. The shock of it caused the man to freeze up, reaching forward Adrain grabbed him by the collar and the back of his belt and heaved, hauling him up and over the side of the railing, where he seemed to hang in the air for a moment, a look of shock and horror on his face before he vanished out of sight.

This was the second man he had thrown over the side of this very railing, perhaps they should make it higher to prevent that? Adrian turned back to look at the soldiers that were crowded in the hold of the dirigible.

“Damn shame tha’ officer slipped,” Adrian said, slipping back into his Kurtz accented speech. No one said a word as he squeezed himself in next to the man that had told him to get on. “Damn shame indeed,” he smiled to himself as he reached up and caught a hand on one of the many rope handles placed into the roof of the thing for that very purpose.

It would seem as though the ride down inside the dirigible was much more comfortable than the ride up in the luggage compartment on the back, despite the fact that the craft was full to the what Adrian had to assume was max capacity, seeing as there was no room to squeeze even half a man in. he closed his eyes and stopped thinking about the fact that this contraption was the only thing preventing him from plummeting to his death. As he stood there a massive wall of sound seemed to hit him with what felt like a physical force. The dirigible rocked and he opened his eyes to look out the small porthole in the side of the latched door. Through the glass, fogged by everyone’s breath he was able to make out fire raining down. Bits of metal and burning cloth flew past his window and a large shape twisted and warped pitched and fell, the safety features that kept the Airship in the air finally succumbing to the fire that consumed it. As he watched a smile curved his lips, he could see it in the reflection of the fogged glass.

It had been simple enough to slip past the Kurtz men as they got out of the Dirigible, they were to busy staring at the twisted wreck of the Airship, which had slammed down into one side of the Kurtz camp, badly damaging the landing pad it had been intended to alight upon. It was even easier to slip out of the camp itself, seeing as everyone, including the sentries seemed to be rushing to fill pails with brackish water in order to put out the broken twisted hulk of a ship.

Adrian was rather glad of this seeing as he didn't have any reagents so spells would be out of the question. As he escaped he pulled off the Kurtz long coat and tossed it aside, working to do the same with the trousers, which was a touch more difficult seeing as he needed to hop on one leg as he pulled them free before repeating the action on the other leg. Once he had that done however he looked down at himself and smiled. He was wearing his Helheim officer’s pants and a plain shirt under those of the Kurtz empire, and they were soaked through with sweat and water from the marshlands, which was in his opinion a terrible cologne. The march back to the Helheim side of the border was only a twenty-minute slog or so through the swamps, easy enough if marching through thigh-high water filled with gods only knows what horrendously grotesque and malformed life that thrived in these murky waters. Still, he couldn't keep that massive smile off of his face even as he waded through the foul-smelling liquid...