Chapter 8 - Part 7

They ran out of a back tunnel that had not collapsed, fighting off two unorganized goblin ambushes. In both instances the goblins broke it off after a few of them took wounds. Their hearts did not seem to be in it. Visha took a knife in the gut from one lucky shot, but used some innate power of hers to close the gash. Orphan took wounds and attacks, but knocked the goblins over like pins in a bowling game as he charged at them. The warforged seemed to frighten the goblins the most. Despite his relative lack of plating they seemed to think he was yet another war golem from Cyre.

Eventually they were on the other side of the hill, fresh air and a gorgeous sunset awaiting them. Sky’s Favor was circling above, and the remaining warforged units were pointing at it and gesticulating wildly. The airship surged downwards to Delegado and his temporary allies, causing those remaining units of Cyre to take cover.

“Stay low,” Delegado hissed. “We don’t want the warforged to spot us!”

Visha disappeared into a crack in the ground, and Orphan did a passable imitation of a disabled Cyran soldier-construct.

Its fiery ring blazing, the airship dove down from the skies, the sailors aboard firing crossbows blindly to intimidate would-be attackers. In addition Gullif had apparently conjured up bright illusions and booming noises that gave the impression he was about to cast horrendous spells of destruction. Sky’s Favor screamed through the air, relentless in its approach.

The airship then straightened and pulled up, its soarwood hull creaking. The elemental ring around it passed over several Cyran positions, making the soldiers, human and warforged alike, hug the ground to escape being burnt to death. As the ring of fire lifted up over Delegado, his prisoner, and the two monks, a pair of long cables were tossed from the aft of the ship.

Delegado caught one easily, wrapping it around his forearm as he put his other arm around Xavier’s chest, under the man’s armpits. The warforged monk and Visha grabbed the other cable at the same time.

The half-orc suddenly felt himself jerked upwards, with only air beneath his feet. Both of his arms began to feel the strain, but he held on grimly, feeling the cable being pulled up. He shut his eyes to avoid the sickening vertigo that the shrinking ground was giving him. He thought he heard crossbows twanging down below, but he neither felt nor heard anything hit. No spells came their way either.

Likely everything that could be cast has been cast, the bounty hunter thought, keeping a tight grip on Xavier’s limp form as the wind whipped ever-faster past his face, chilling his exposed skin. The bag of documents and writings on his back began to feel like stone.

The higher the ship climbed, the faster he felt himself going up with it. He opened his eyes, only to behold that the ground was already several hundred feet below him. He quickly shut them again.

Soon he felt the heat of the elemental pass him by, and he tilted his head up to see that he was next to the hull of the airship, and the top deck railing was fast approaching. Lyrandar sailors grabbed him and Xavier and pulled him over the railing onto the deck with a roaring cheer.

On the other side of the deck was the other cable, and it was not being pulled or handled. Visha nonetheless scampered quickly into view shortly after Delegado was hauled on deck, and regarded the small crowd that had gathered carefully. The sailors regarded her curiously, but did not speak to her. Gorka appeared, shoving through the crowd of sailors with a grim face which gradually became a relieved smile when he saw Xavier out cold but breathing.

“Well done,” the shifter Dark Lantern said, pressing his hand into the half-orc’s. “Well done.” Gorka snapped his fingers and barked orders, and sailors began securing Xavier even more fully before hauling the Thrane below. “I will send a message to the Kundarak bankers via my Sivis device immediately.”

“You will after you explain a few things,” Visha said firmly. Behind her the warforged finally appeared.

“She wants proof about the Thrane,” the weary half-orc told Gorka. He could barely do more than shake hand after hand. The Lyrandar sailors were very impressed with him, and they kept asking him questions about the warforged titan that they had seen fall into the hill.

“Very well,” Gorka said. “I will send the message after mollifying this halfling woman.” The warforged was coiling the cable that he had climbed up, oblivious to all the commotion. One Lyrandar sailor had the presence of mind to thank him.

“Don’t mollify too long,” Delegado joked, and several of the sailors laughed.

“And we are expecting a ride and accommodations as well,” Visha said. She was simultaneously eyeing every Lyrandar sailor on deck.

“Yeah, she and her tin buddy want out of here, who can blame them? I figure you can give them a lift, the warforged won’t eat much.”

Gorka smiled. “Indeed. Brunis!”

“Captain Brunis!” cried the offended half-elf from somewhere.

“Captain then,” the shifter crowed. “Head due west, straight for Wroat!”

“Over Darguun?” Brunis asked incredulously.

“I didn’t say fly low, I said fly west,” Gorka chuckled. “It wouldn’t hurt to gain altitude, would it?” Brunis stalked off.

Delegado sat down on the deck he was so tired. Xavier was hauled away from him, and all of his adrenaline seemed to be gone. Gullif appeared before him as the sailors drifted off to their assigned tasks. The wizard had brought him a cup of steaming soup.

“You looked hungry in my magnifier,” the half-elven wizard chuckled. “And everyone else is busy, so enjoy. The cook says it has goat in it.” The wizard wrinkled his nose. “I think that the goat may have hatched from an egg.”

“Thanks,” Delegado told him, drinking deeply. It was good. He looked across the deck to see Gorka leading Visha to his cabin where the papers on Xavier were. The warforged was holding onto the bag of writings, which he had quietly taken when Delegado had been chatting with Gullif. “Hey!” the half-orc called to the warforged. “Hey, Orphan!”

“Yes?” The warforged’s reply was both careful and calm.

“Gullif, you have some repair spells prepared?” the half-orc asked.

“On a large boat that could fall out of the sky should something break?” Gullif said. “Why you know what, I do!”

“Spend one on this guy here, would you?”

Gullif nodded and cast the spell. Touching the bad hole in the middle of the warforged’s torso, he made a circular motion with his fingers and the hole closed up.

“Thank you,” Orphan said gratefully. “That was most troubling to me.”

“You are welcome,” Gullif said. “Quite a nasty hole, who gave it to you?”

“He did,” the warforged said, pointing at the half-orc.

Gullif looked at Delegado, and the bounty hunter started to laugh. “You have an odd way of making friends, Delegado, you know that?”

“Oh he’s not my friend,” chuckled the half-orc. He finished his soup and stood, stretching. “He’s not my friend at all.”

“It’s mutual,” the half-orc heard the warforged mutter. That made him laugh all the more.

“I’m down to my cabin, my part is done,” the half-orc said. “How long until Wroat?”

“It’s roughly one thousand and seven hundred and fifty miles in a straight line,” Gullif said, retrieving the empty soup cup. “Slightly more with the curvature of the planet, add on some for avoiding the higher edges of the mountains between Darguun and Breland. I figure that with not much bad weather and Gorka pushing Captain Brunis for near-round-the-clock travel, we’ll be there in four sunrises.”

“That’s quick,” the warforged noted.

“Yeah, three and a-half days until I never have to see you again,” Delegado said. “Don’t care where you and the midget go when we get to Wroat, clickety-clack, just don’t go my way.” He began to make his way down to the decks below.

“My name is Iron Orphan,” the warforged said behind Delegado.

The half-orc had no reply. He was going to crash in his bunk, eat ravenously upon awakening, and repeat the cycle until he got to Wroat. The warforged and the halfling sensei were already out of his mind.