Fallensteller watched as Jäger assured Mesahri, but took note that he avoided acknowledging her own concerns about Yarah. It began to Dawn on her that perhaps she hadn't been acting in independent self interest. Perhaps Jäger ordered her to attempt some kind of spell on Fallensteller, and when it didn't work, they moved on to Mesahri. Perhaps that was the point of the whole meeting, to get the Zuflucht's leadership close enough that Yarah could compromise it with magic.
She pushed the thought away. If Jäger wanted to influece Fallensteller's officers, then it wouldn't make sense for Mesahri's quiet anger to be directed at him. Unless that's his cover... she thought before disposing of the whole theory. Don't fall for paranoia. If you hear hooves on the bridge, watch for horses, not zebras.
How do you feel?
"Comfortable," Fallensteller beamed. "And quite impressed. Aren't you, Officer?"
Mesahri looked rather stuffy. She could feel the suspicion in the air and felt like both Captains were unfairly controlling the conversation. "I'm fine," she answered. "Sir, must Miss Yarah be silent? I was rather enjoying her company..."
Jäger frowned and grunted. "Yarah has the unfortunate ability of twisting words in her favor." He clasped his hands together and placed them under his chin. "When I first summoned her she tried to deceive me in lowering my protective spells- which would have allowed her to strike me down."
As Jäger spoke Smedberg glanced over his shoulder briefly before returning his focus to the controls infront of him.
Tobey smiled slightly, "Delightful." he remarked. "I'll be ready to receive you in the evening."
A rough looking sailor came running up the street and could see that Tobey was discussing with another Captain so he jogged up to Bennett instead.
Bennett listened intently and then tapped Tobey on the shoulder, "Cap'n, there's somethin on the ship that needs yer attention. We should go."
Tobey's smile disappeared in an instant. He turned to Reginald, "In the evening then, Mister Fontaine." he said as his group departed.
Reginald could see as the sailor elaborated his message to his captain as they made their way towards the docks in a hasty manner.
Therasmus had only gotten more into his study session as time went on, acknowledging the librarian's offer of future assistance with a nod as yet more books surrounded him. When one volume was finished he returned it to its original place and traded it for another, his telekinetic powers proving extremely dexterous and able to multitask quite effectively. Though the extensive use of it was starting to show his true form, the illusion starting to peel back every now and then as his facial features shimmered and flashed into a blue void of emptiness. Yet as soon as that crack in the shell would appear he would repair it quite readily, but the flickering never stopped completely. With some of the simpler volumes he was done with them as soon as he started, yet the ones that remained in his orbit seemed to be ones he took a liking to the most.
Once the immense submarine began to dive, he peered toward the librarian and tilted his head slightly. He could feel the slight change in pressure of the atmosphere, a certain degree of freedom being lost as they were surrounded by the blackness of the Lost Sea. How curious. "I take we've submersed, then? How very interesting. One must wonder the merit to such a feature - to my understanding being beneath the ocean can be more dangerous than resting above it, yes? Though there are no doubt positives as well. Hrm..."
"See you then, captain." Fontaine said before Tobey and his men departed. He wondered for a few seconds what they were talking about before he left to meet with his own men. When he returned to the trucks, he was greeted by the familiar scowl of his first mate.
"Was the meeting productive, captain?"
"Very. Tobey will use our ammunitions, so I want crates delivered to the Mariner's boon as soon as possible." He entered the truck, Karam sitting next to him "And what about you? What did you find? When I left you, you wanted to speak to Jäger's new girlfriend. Did she work your magic on you?"
"I'm...not exactly sure as to what that was. But no, that was not exactly fruitful.
"So you went to talk to the stone seer girl."
"Kahleen, yes. I was...curious as to what her ritual was. And how she may have been fooled by Ackerman and Dobbs."
"Still chasing visions."
"You would be well to open up to what lies beyond, captain. Especially in this sea."
"You're beginning to sound like captain Tobey." After this observation by Fontaine, Karam was silent for the rest of the trip to the ship.
---
Some time later
They arrived near the platform that was going to lead them upwards to the ship, when they spotted something curious. Near it, was a large gathering of the locals. Company men had established a perimeter to make sure there was space between them and the platform. The retinue got out of the trucks and looked around them. It was obviously not something to be alarmed about, nobody appeared hostile. Fontaine looked at them and a slight smile formed on his face.
"With me gentlemen." He motioned to move. A few steps and he hopped on a crate to make sure everyone could see him. He coughed in a exaggerated manner to attract their attention "Hrm. Good day to you, our new recruits. Last night I talked with Fawnstar on whether there are those who wish to join our crew and set a new course for their lives. And I must say that I am happy to see so many of you willing to join us on this journey. To show you that you have made the right choice, you are going to enjoy the following benefits of working under the banner of the Black River trading company. Guaranteed accommodations, food and honest pay for honest work. As well as training in many of the fields we have open on board this ship. The company sees you all as equal under it's wing, as such any racist or xenophobic remarks will be reported to these gentlemen" He motioned towards his men "You will know them by their uniforms. It is their job to make sure this ship works in order, so it is in their and my best interest that you are focused and undisturbed in your work."
"To make the transition as smooth as possible I will ask you to form into two groups. On my left, those of you who are soldiers, mercenaries or muscle by trade. You will receive training of the soldiers you see before you. You will be peacekeepers, enforcers and the hammer of the company."
"To my right, everyone who is a craftsman, worker, builder and whatever else falls in that category. You will be taught by our engineers, technicians and workers on how to make sure this ship and it's equipment run smoothly. You will be the backbone of the company and the shoulders on which we build a better future."
"You will of course have the option to work in the other field, but I suggest you find what you're good at and stick to it for the best results. Now as you organise I will go up into the ship and have my men prepare to meet you and process you. Until then, keep order and have patience. It will all be over soon." He stepped off the crate and headed to the platform along with Karam and his men.
"Fine speech captain. They may actually believe you have their best interest at heart."
"Don't I ever?" Fontaine chuckled "We need the extra manpower these people can give us, so I will not look a gift horse in the mouth." They stepped on and it began to ascend "Who knows, they might turn out to be very useful."
"Have you decided what to do about the other problem?"
"Hmm? Oh yes. That is the next item on the agenda for today."
As she was left alone at the table, Nita finished her tea and headed back for the Consulate. The streets soon became the Consulate courtyard, then her quarters. She began packing vials, herbs, incense sticks, clothes, a little food, anything that seemed useful really. Am I really doing this? she thought to herself. She stopped for a moment and looked around her room. Am I really, really going to do this insane thing? The room was silent as she conflicted in her mind.
YES. she reaffirmed herself, moving again. She closed her pack and set it on her back, readying herself. But then she remember Kitta. She sighed, realizing the potential of her going at it alone. She didn't want to go alone at it. She looked at a small chest near her bedding and felt conflicted. Some of the money in there was hers, but the rest was Vunor's...
[Later]
Having returned to Felis' House of Wine after some time, Nita took a seat and waved to Kitta again and motioning her to come over. Before Kitta could begin protesting again, Nita dropped a large sack onto the table. "This should help your ma and pa for a few months."
---
Vunor arrived on the Revenant after a bit of travel, embarking from his smaller skiff and climbing aboard the much larger vessel and eventually found himself waiting near the Admiral's quarters at a lounge. He tapped his foot in a gentle rhythm as he leaned on a wall patiently.
Cattapoli, Felis' House of Wine
Kitta walked on over, her hands free now, though her apron dirty with flour. There weren't as many people in the restaurant at the moment. "What is it now, Nita?"
She glanced down over the sack that was placed on the table with a little frown. "What... what is all of this?"
Cattapoli, Revenant
Mannfred and Shalo said their goodbyes to Krantz as he left the meeting room, Lady Kyndreth following close behind him with a watchful eye. A sailor had been waiting outside and he was a little surprised to see this demon, but it didn't seem to faze him much. Those on board the Revenant didn't seem to be strangers to these sort of things.
"Follow me, sir, I'll lead you back out. A skiff is waiting."
The sailor took the two of them back out to the main deck and down some stairs to the skiff he had arrived on, ready to carry him back to the docks.
Kyndreth looked rather inquisitive about everything around her, but she hadn't said a word since they left the meeting room. Her arm looked poised to pull out her sword at a moment's notice, though she didn't appear hostile to any of the sailors and marines. When it appeared that the people nearby weren't particularly dangerous, she checked out the distant city around the bay, and then the floating airships. Her expression remained blank but her eyes betrayed her silent questions.
---
Vunor had been directed to a small sailor's lounge, which had a long bench, sink, small couch, and a counter with some food stuffs. A coffee maker took up the bulk of the countertop space. After a moment, a sailor entered, followed by Mannfred.
"Hello, High Shaman. I was at a meeting so excuse my tardiness. What do you need?" The admiral took a seat on the bench while the sailor lingered near the doorway quietly.
Niakoma, Blitzwave
There was not much depth for the submarine to dive in around the channel waters surrounding the islands, but it was able to find a fair depth to travel at that was neither too close to the surface or the ocean floor. The rudimentary sonar picked up only a few small blips - likely whales or other large sea life.
Yarah looked a little uncomfortable during the diving process. The alarms, movement of the crew, and the sounds of the submarine itself creaking and groaning as it submerged was a scary situation for most first timers. She sat quietly in her seat, simply looking around and listening in to the others.
Her heart jumped when Mesahri finally spoke out for her, but her hopes were dashed when Jager denied her. She had hoped he wouldn't catch on so soon. If he was the kind to enforce silence, then it would be a long servitude indeed.
As the four of them proceeded back to the docks where the Eisenstrasse waited, floating silently above, Krantz took notice of Kyndreth's eyes wandering about. "You may speak if you wish. I'd be happy to answer any questions or comments you may have...I actually value communication and conversations with those close to me." he said with a smile, before looking around. She seemed to mainly be looking towards the city and the airships. "We're currently in the harbor of Cattapoli, a city mainly populated with beastfolk. It acts as the capital of these islands, known as the Cattan Islands." he explained, motioning with his hand towards the city.
He then pointed up to the massive, long black/brown airship floating above the docks. "And that is my ship. The Eisenstrasse. Its similar to the other ships in this fleet, though it sails through the sky and clouds instead of the seas."
Mesahri looked a bit dispirited as the submarine dove below the water, and her eroded opinion of Captain Jäger sank even lower. Fallensteller gave her a light squeeze on the shoulder, which she found difficult to interpret. Was the Captain trying to sympathize with her, even after advising Jäger to be watchful? Or does she think I'm under some spell and I can't think reasonably for myself?
In truth, it was the latter, and while Mesahri's gaze was focused on the floor between her feet, Fallensteller was looking rather mockingly at Yarah. Nice try, you little slut, she seemed to say with her smug eyes and the slightest hint of a smirk. She intended to explain to her Petty Officer what was happening once they had returned to their own vessel and the magic had worn off, and expected Mesahri to feel more than a little embarrassed for being so unappreciative of a man who had provided such an astounding meal and fascinating tour to a minor officer- a rare privilege.
Mesahri sat and tried to think of a plan. There had to be some outlet for Yarah; suffering quietly by Jäger's hand, being his personal sex slave, was a life of unimaginable misery. No wonder she tried to trick him and kill him, look at what he's done to her, her conscience agitated. She checked her uniform's pockets and found her field journal and pencil, two items she didn't expect to have much "official" use for since her knowledge of written Gren was far, far more limited than her knowledge of the spoken form. It was still quite interesting to her, however, as encased-graphite writing utensils weren't cheap or easy to get on the Cattan Islands, and it made her feel more like she belonged to receive these sorts of standard issue goods from the quartermaster.
At the very least, the quartermaster had taken the time to help her write her name phonetically onto the first page using the Gren alphabet. Beyond that page, however, she wrote exclusively in her native language, and there wasn't much to say: [I was asked to accompany Captain Fallensteller to Catapoli and meet leadership of fleet. Translation could be handy, as she doesn't know who all will be there from the Islands. She asked about my kin- we are trying our best to integrate. The human sailors are having nightmares and many of them are afraid of us. She promises me it will get better.]
That was all, since the impromptu trial of Fallensteller at the Consulate had gone too quickly and chaotically for Mesahri to record her thoughts, and the trip to the Blixtvåg had been rather personal in nature until now, not providing her an opportunity to reflect on things. Still, the pages were so small in the pocket book that the simple entry above took up nearly two of them, and an idea dawned on her. "[Tap your foot if you understand this, demon,]" she said under her breath, not looking Yarah's way for fear of drawing more attention.
"Hmm?" Fallensteller looked over at Mesahri, unsure of what was just muttered.
The bat looked up at her inconspicuously. "Sorry... talking to myself," she said.
She kept her eyes on the notebook, only watching for the movement out of the corner of her eye and listening for the tapping sound with her giant, adept ears, but there was nothing. Yarah clearly didn't understand the Cattan language. I can't leave her a coded message, then. But maybe... Maybe if she can speak Gren, she can write me a note instead... I'll have to find someone I can trust to read it back to me... Contented on these thoughts, Mesahri recorded numerous details about the morning and the visit while Fallensteller and Jäger idly conversed about some innocuous topics. Within only a few minutes, she had scrawled out enough information to fill around eight pages. Every few paragraphs beyond that point, she intentionally left a spot blank on the page, room for someone to slip in a little Gren here in there in a cursive script which would blend in with her own.
When she had finished preparing the field journal, she closed the pencil up inside of it and wrapped the thin leather strap around the front so that it would stay closed. Fifteen pages in all had been written, around half of them providing space for Yarah. She felt like a genius, and her mood was finally improving. The Zuflucht was close by, now, and the Blixtvåg would soon surface to allow its two guests to return to their home vessel. As the group stood in that awkward moment before they could leave the bridge, Mesahri slipped the book back into her pocket and suddenly interrupted the captains, speaking hastily.
"I'm sorry, please, I need a restroom right now. I can't wait until I'm back aboard the Zuflucht!" Her haunting yellowish eyes darted pleadingly between the captains in search of direction.
Fallensteller was angry with the interruption, but she wasn't about to deal with the embarrassment of her new officer soiling herself aboard an allied ship. Why would you try to hold it? You could have asked at any time, she thought in severe exasperation, but in the end she realized that Mesahri was totally inexperienced with proper etiquette, and to some degree, but not much, it ought to be tolerated for the time being. "I do apologize as well," she said icily. "It appears to be an emergency, Wilhelm. Will you please direct us to a lavatory with enough privacy for a young woman?"
---
On the Mariner's Boon, Neustadt had a note of her own to write, this time to Captain Tobey explaining her violent behavior. I shouldn't have to explain, she anguished as she lay in the isolated room. He knows I've been tainted, and he's already waiting for me to turn bloodthirsty. Maybe he just needs to be sure that this is the corruption he and Fallensteller put into me, and not my own will to escape this place. She rolled over in bed and looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes puffy and pinkish with tears. It was her own face; nothing had changed, and yet she wanted to smash it. Deep down she knew it was because she couldn't blame the Captains entirely for what had become of her. Like a sinner at the gates of Hell, looking back on past mistakes, she was confronted with the harshest truth: even if she meant well, this place was where she now belonged.
She stood and once again walked to the stationary set at the desk, penning a less tersely-worded message for Captain Tobey:
"I'm very sorry for attacking Dr. Marsh.
Since I woke up today I've found I have
very little control over my emotions
and behavior. Impulses feel almost
impossible to control. I asked the Dr.
to render me mute, as I feared how my
life would go on with that strange voice
I received, and he did so-
The procedure used some kind of
chemical gas, and it was one of the
worst pains I've ever felt. When he
released me, I was so crazed from
the pain that I knocked away a
drink which would have helped a lot.
Now I can't make a sound at all, my
voice is simply gone completely. I'm
hoping that in the next few days, if
I can control my temper, that you'll
return me to the Zuflucht or some
other ship, where I can perform my
duties without being tempted down
this road again."
She set the pen down and felt a deep, seething resentment. It was too polite, too gentle. Tobey has no right to keep me here. I ought to tell him to go hang himself for the kind of man he is, not beg him for release... She looked at the mirror and could see the physical result of this vitriol. There was something evidently wicked hiding behind those sad, puffy eyes of her, and for the briefest moment she considered taking her pen and stabbing Tobey to death with it, utterly unaware that someone had just attempted a similar reckless move the previous night. But the most frightening thing was that in that moment of fantasy, the weight of her soul seemed to lighten, and she was almost pleased to have been cursed in the first place. It would feel so good, she thought as she imagined the blood pouring out of the man's ruptured artery, before she snapped back to her mild conscience and felt so sick and disgusted that she ran back to the bed and buried herself under the covers.
Wilhelm was discussing the success Gothian submarines had achieved against the fearsome Pavlovian fleet when Mesahri interrupted him. He bowed his head in reply to Fallensteller. "No need to apologize."
Jäger turned towards a marine security officer standing at the door. It was a woman in her late thirties with the common blonde features of the Gothians.
"Corporal Häreld, please guide Petty Officer Mesahri to the lavatories. We will resurface in fifteen."
The soldier saluted. "Yes, Captain."
She opened the door and gestured for Mesahri to follow. Once Mesahri stepped out into the hallway Häreld closed the door and gestured down the hall. "Lavatories are not far from here, please follow me."
Häreld took point and began walking down the hall. She kept Mesahri under close watch.
The hallway was silent except for the sound of boots and the muffled thud sound created by Häreld's black baton as it slapped against her leg.
---
Lars nodded. "We're indeed submerged. Despite the many risks the tactical advantages greatly make it worth the effort. A submarine can strike unseen and without warning. We can deliver messages, troops and supplies to allies without being stopped."
Mesahri remained calm, but the further she got from the bridge, and from Yarah, the more nervous she became. Finally, they came up to a restroom and Mesahri was motioned inside. The interior was small and efficiently designed to allow for four private stalls inside the tiny lavatory. She carefully closed herself inside of one, feeling about as far from home as she had ever been, and sat down.
In the midst of her visit, she pulled the pocketbook back out of her coat and set it gently inside the trash can which, thankfully, had a clean paper liner inside.
When she was finished she washed her hands and straightened her hat before rejoining Häreld in the hall. "Thank you," she said with a relieved sigh before hurrying along back to the bridge. Upon returning, she made eye contact with Yarah, using her eyes to indicate that her restroom visit was in someway significant. She then looked away and made no further attempt to look at or speak to Yarah.
Once Häreld and Mesahri had returned Jäger signaled Smedberg. "Begin our ascension."
Smedberg nodded and the alarms were sounded once more. Once again there was a burst of activity as the Blixtvåg slowed in and propelled itself upwards. On the surface the water started to foam and bubble before parting in two to reveal the top of the submarine beneath.
Once the Blixtvåg had resurfaced several hatches and vents were opened up to recycle air and lower the water pressure.
Jäger smiled at Fallensteller. "We're here."
The captain marched with a spry step towards their next location. Karam knew Fontaine wanted to deal with the traitors, but not this quickly. The distance from the hangar to Bellsey's quarters was closed in minutes. In front they could see two of the company men stand guard, Graves next to them. Awaiting the arrival of his superiors.
Before they entered, Karam noticed something peculiar. His captain's right hand was now adorned with a glove. Karam wasn't sure if he even saw him put that on. He was more puzzled as to why he wore it in the first place.
"This won't take long, I'm sure." Fontaine said as he walked to the door "Just keep her talking." The men entered the room. Having a look around as they did. Mallery was sitting in her chair behind a desk, smoking a cigarette and looking at them with a mixture of annoyance and anger. The ashtray was already looking like a mountain. Her room was tightly in order, the polar opposite of Leopold's pigsty from the previous night. Although he noticed something lingering in the air. Outside the smoke of cigarettes, there was the smell of something else. Something that had already burned. He looked at the ashtray with bits of paper poking from beneath all the ash.
"So, the list is destroyed then?" He asked while looking at her. She just puffed smoke at his direction. Fontaine stepped forward, observing the window behind her. As if he wasn't interested in the conversation.
"I suspect that list was important?" He finally said something.
"According to Dr. Snitskey, it contained the names of everyone on board that could have been turned against you." He kept looking at her.
"That idiot let everything out, did he?" She finally responded. "Yes, Reginald. It was a list of potential recruits. Is that what you wanted to hear? That this is some kabal to oust you out of your captain's seat?" She stopped to take another drag "You have been acting outside of the company's interest and this decision to use the chemical weapons was something I wasn't going to let you do just like that. The list were people I could contact to make sure they could obstruct you and reel you in for the future, so you would be more focused on your job." Fontaine moved from his place near the window to the coffee table. He still looked uninterested in the conversation "What are you doing?"
"I'm having a look around, what does it look like? Police habits from way back when. Don't worry, I'm still listening." He said while looking at the tea set at the table.
"If this is how you got testimonies, you must have been horrible."
"I was the chief officer, so I did something right." He ignored the jabs. Nothing he hadn't heard before." But I'm not the one answering questions. Let's get back on track, shall we? Why did you burn the list?"
"Because of the way you punish people, you psychopath!" She hissed at him "Like I need you to terrorize the ship further."
"So you're not going to give me those names?" He looked at her
"Correct."
"In that case, you are directly obstructing me and the investigation. As such, you now have that to add to the charges of conspiracy against me and the fleet. How do you plead?"
"Oh screw off." She stopped paying attention to him "When the company gets wind of this, you're going to regret being born." She took another drag.
"Oh, I'm sure." Fontaine motioned with his hand. A loud bang echoed throughout the room and outside of it. Karam blinked twice and looked at his captain, who was holding a smoking gun. He looked to where Malery stood, only to see her lifeless body fall out of the chair. "Which is why you're not going to do that."
Graves and the two guards that were outside rushed inside the room once they heard the shot.
"What the hell happened?"
"I believe it's quite obvious." Fontaine said as he walked towards the body. "We confronted Mallery on her planned betrayal of the fleet and uncovered that she was not at all well as we thought." He knelt down and placed the gun in her hand. "She pulled out a gun, ranted something about Raun and shot herself." He looked down and back towards his first mate "It's a damn shame."
"I suppose Dr. Snitskey will confirm this." Karam crossed his arms behind his back. He hid his disdain for what his captain was doing as best he could. He wanted the snake dead and gone, but not like this. This action had no honor to it.
"If he knows what's good for him, yes." Fontaine answered nonchalantly.
"He did mention that she suffered from night terrors."
"Ah, that's probably something we should look into. Night terrors might be caused by the influence of the sea and who knows what else." Fontaine took out his pocket watch. Barely past 3PM. "This episode has left me drained. I'll be in my quarters to rest. I have a meeting with captain Tobey tonight and would prefer to look more professional. Graves, tell the men that we are expecting locals to arrive and to treat them as any other company employee."
"Right boss."
"Karam, have a few crates ready to be delivered to the Mariner's boon. I know it's not your job, but we're a quartermaster short now, so you will have to pick up some of the slack until I pick a new one." Fontaine said as he was leaving the room. He looked at the two guards at the door "Well, don't just stand there. Clean this up."
"Ah!" Fallensteller said with a clap of her hands. "Simply fantastic. You've been a gracious host, Wilhelm. I would quite enjoy visiting again in the near future, perhaps when matters aren't so pressing..." She pulled out a pocket watch and thought for a moment about her schedule. "As it is, I've only just made my next appointment. Mesahri, are you ready?"
Mesahri nodded. "Yes ma'am," she said. "Thank you for allowing me to come along," she said to both Captains.
A few minutes later, the Blixtvåg had maneuvered closely enough to the Zuflucht that a crane could be deployed over the side and a platform could be winched down, much like when the submarine came in for repairs after the battle at Campo Diablo. Fallensteller and Mesahri climbed into the basket and were hoisted smoothly back to the top deck, waving their goodbyes to Jäger and his crew.
"As I said, it should help you and your folks." Nita replied as she pushed the sack towards her. A coin slipped out from it and fell onto the table, revealing the contents of the sack to Kitta.
---
"Admiral", Vunor began to speak as he bowed slightly for a show of respect. "It is unfortunate that I come with what I believe to be... ill news." He took a seat across from the Admiral, adjusting himself on the small furniture. He gripped his bandaged hand tightly, squeezing it in unease before looking to the man in front of him.
"I spoke to you in regards to the situation on our front, with the elements, some time ago. I had hoped that our victory over the cultists would have eased that and returned things to normal... considering the damage they were doing. However, I tried to speak to the Five today... or at the very least meditate in their presence. And I felt... nothing. Like an empty void. I tried again... perhaps thinking I did my ritual wrong. I made sure, and still there was nothing. Then again, and again, and again..." He held up his bandaged hand to the admiral to see.
"Something has happened... perhaps beyond my current comprehension, but I am certain of it."
Cattapoli, Revenant
The small craft carrying Krantz and Kyndreth made its way back towards the docks at good speed. The weather had been rather remarkable so far in the Cattan Islands, and the waters here were calm and placid. Damage from the inferno which had torn through a portion of the docks was still being cleaned up, with numerous Cattan and some humans clearing away debris, but activity had fast returned to the areas which had been burning not so long ago.
Further out into the bay, fishing ships and smaller craft were out and about. A couple larger vessels that appeared to be trade ships were moving in and out of the bay, likely laden with wares and goods.
"Conversation?" Kyndreth spoke up as if she didn't know what it meant. "I... see. Very well, lord. That is not a skill I have extensive experience with."
From the way she spoke, it was somewhat apparent that she did seem a little awkward. Not quite nervous, but unwieldy when using words. As if she wasn't quite sure what to say and how to say it.
"This city... Cattapoli... it is nice. The sun does not burn the skin and the air does not smell bad. I have never heard of this place, though. And I do not know what these beastfolk are, but if my eyes don't deceive me, it appears they are exactly as they sound."
She was looking out towards the docks where numerous Cattan were visible as the moved about, working or taking some leisure time.
Kyndreth was quiet for a little while longer before she finally looked back up to the airship above.
"A remarkable vessel. You must be a very strong sorcerer to keep your ship afloat for so long. Or perhaps you have a coven to oversee this?"
---
Admiral Mannfred said nothing as Vunor spoke. It was clear the man was rather disturbed and needing some guidance, but he wasn't sure if he was the one who could help the shaman. After all, he couldn't exactly say to him that perhaps the silence was... permanent. He didn't know enough about the shaman's religion and lore, though he did know that the elemental magic more or less came from Oraya. She had perished in the war, though not to Raum - but by an angry mob instead.
"It is unfortunate that you must face such silence, but it is not something you should find despair in. This silence, regardless of what it means, should not stop you. Your ways are still important to you, are they not? Your teachings and philosophies still mean something to you and all the other adherents. It is real and apart of all of you," Mannfred explained. "Gods and the divine are... often quiet. They have always been so in the land we come from. I advise you to maintain your faith. After all, is faith not belief while faced with adversity?"
Veranhal, Blitzwave
Yarah continued to look rather pouty, with her arms and legs crossed and lips curled into a little frown. She seemed to have a petulant streak, even when she could have been doing something more to actually help her situation.
She glanced only slightly at Mesahri when the demon muttered something, but she clearly didn't know what was said and she only glanced her and Fallensteller over a little before looking away again. A few moments later there was some more commotion when the bat girl needed to use the restroom, and Yarah observed in silence. She noted the girl had been looking over her journal, or book, pretty extensively and calmly earlier but now she was suddenly needing to use the bathroom.
When Mesahri returned, Yarah caught her stare and wondered what that meant. Did... she miss something important? Was this a signal for something?
She was momentarily interrupted when the submarine began to resurface. The blaring of the alarms and movement of the crew made her a little tense, but her mind was still lingering on Mesahri. What did the young girl do? Or perhaps she was reading too much into this....
Yarah eyed the bat for a little bit as everyone moved around, trying to collect her thoughts on the matter when finally she realized - Mesahri didn't have her notebook in her back pocket anymore. Her eyes scanned the ground and the chairs, but realized it wasn't there. The bathroom? Perhaps... perhaps...
As everyone said their goodbyes, she gave a little bow to Mesahri and Fallensteller, but while the others were still busy she quietly stepped out of the bridge and into the hall. She had only been around some parts of the ship and she didn't know much of it well, but she was pretty sure she knew where the nearest bathrooms were - and also she noticed the signs leading to it. She casually made her way to it and entered.
Cattapoli, Felis' House of Wine
Kitta stared at the sack of money, unsure of what to say. Indeed, this would be more than enough for a few months for her parents and siblings. But could she just take it? Where did Nita even find this....
"... how long is this trip supposed to take?" She finally asked, reaching out and grabbing the bag of money. It had some weight to it. She was clearly thinking this over hard.
"I won't go if its for too long...."
"Of course I do not waver!" Vunor replied sternly, somewhat taken aback. "I do not intend to abandon my sacred oath. But I am also certain I cannot find a solution to this from my home here. Our goals, and fates, are aligned... and as such."
Vunor stood up and bowed. "If you would permit it, I wish to join forces with your expedition."
---
The truth was, Nita didn't know how long this adventure would take. "Two months. Maybe three depending on weather conditions I suppose." Nita said with a feigned confidence.
"A remarkable vessel. You must be a very strong sorcerer to keep your ship afloat for so long. Or perhaps you have a coven to oversee this?"
Krantz smirked a bit. "I'm far from a sorcerer, and there's no coven aboard my ship. In fact, there's no magic involved at all. Instead, its powered by science. Though, to some, science seems quite a lot like magic. I'll give you a tour of the ship sometime, and show you how it stays afloat."
It seems that Kyndreth would need to be brought up to speed on technology. Not a difficult task, really, but it'd take a little time. She also seemed as though she'd never had to talk very much. Understandable, considering she was a guard. Still, it would help if she opened up.
Eventually, the rowboat came to a stop beneath the Eisenstrasse. Ropes were tossed down and tied off on the boat, before the men above pulled the boat up into the Eisenstrasse. "Welcome back...uhm...Captain." said one of the officers, standing nearby as the group climbed out of the boat onto the deck. Everyone in the room was rather stunned by the demonic being that had climbed out of the boat with him.
Krantz looked around, taking notice of their expressions. "This is my bodyguard, Lady Kyndreth. You are to treat her as you would me, and do whatever she requests of you. Understood?" he stated, raising an eyebrow. The group saluted, before responding with a "Yes sir!"
--------
Minutes later, after some travel through the Eisenstrasse, Krantz arrived at the lower bridge with Kyndreth in tow. Váradi was still as he left him, peering down out of the observation window at the end of the bridge. He glanced back, and his eyes widened as he saw who was following his captain. Krantz noticed his expression. "This is Lady Kyndreth. She's my new bodyguard. Treat her as you would me." said Krantz as he walked up, before changing the topic. "Has Von Strauss departed for the Zuflucht yet?"
Váradi turned to face him. "No, sir. She's in the armory. She had an idea for some of our sidearms, effectively increasing their firepower. Might be useful for the coming battle." he said, before drawing a piece of folded paper out of his pocket. "The design shows promise." he stated, handing it over to Krantz.
Krantz took the paper, and looked it over. It seemed to be a design to convert some of their M1896 pistols into submachine guns. "Indeed, it does show promise." said Krantz, raising an eyebrow. "If we have a batch of them converted, we can issue some of them to the troops storming the cardinal's palace. We could also issue a few to the tank crews."
Váradi nodded in agreement. "I'll also put in a request with Fontaine tomorrow for some shotguns. We'll be in for close quarters fighting, so the shotguns will come in handy." he said, to which Krantz nodded. Krantz then glanced back to Kyndreth. He'd need to teach her about firearms, and likely show her how to use one as well. Just in case.
---------
A short while later, Von Strauss made her way back to the lower bridge. In her hands, a prototype version of the weapon she had sketched out earlier after the group of hobos had departed from the ship. The idea just sorta popped into her head all of a sudden. Maybe a wonderfully chaotic idea from Lord Veritas himself? She didn't know, but she was thankful for it regardless. She grinned as she walked, looking the weapon over.
Soon enough, she stepped into the lower bridge area. As she looked up, the first thing she noticed was the woman standing right next to her captain, whom apparently had returned from his meeting. A demon? Why was there a demon just out in the open? And here? On the Eisenstrasse? She approached, before stopping a short distance away from the pair as they stood at the observation window. "...Welcome back, sir. I see you brought a guest." she said, causing Krantz to turn a bit to face her.
"Welcome back, Captain," muttered Schuster as Fallensteller entered the bridge, devoid of any goodwill. He perked up a bit when Mesahri walked in behind her. "Officer," he greeted with a thin smile, but it was difficult to register any change in tone, going by his voice alone. There were a number of fresh faces waiting in the bridge along with Schuster and Weber, most of which looked nervous but were nonetheless honored to be brought before their captain. Schuster had warned them ahead of time of Fallensteller's eyes, which otherwise would have come as a shock. The Captain had only been back for a few minutes, and so it was difficult to tell whether those who already had low opinions throughout the Zuflucht would protest her leadership on appearances alone.
"Guten Tag, everyone," Fallensteller greeted. "Am I correct in assuming that these are our most trustworthy candidates?"
"Yes ma'am," Schuster replied. "Everyone on the list who isn't a rifleman is in this room. I've already formalized their promotions and specific duty changes and adjusted the personnel rosters accordingly. The ones they displaced are now floaters in case of-"
"Spare me the details," Fallensteller interrupted with a flippant wave of her hand. "I'd like you all to introduce yourselves, one at a time." She sat down in her chair as she scanned over the more than two-dozen faces. "When you've finished, I'll tell you the real reason you're here."
They did as they were told, giving their names, ranks, and duties. Schuster had done well to ensure that the many of the ship's essential functions would be handled by the inner circle, and there would be few liabilities and little leverage for anyone outside to make a serious attempt at mutiny. When the last of them had finally given their introduction, Fallensteller clasped her hands together.
"Good. Now then..." she checked her watch, making sure that there would be enough time to accomplish her task before von Strauss was scheduled to visit. "I need ten of you to come with me to the brig. Mr. Weber, send a message to Lt. Pawlitzky and tell him to meet us there with a squad of riflemen. Trustworthy riflemen." She glanced mischievously at the group, which was obviously laden with unease. "Haw, don't look so pale. I know how it might sound, but please understand that you have nothing to fear. I have great plans for you all."
"The message is sent, Captain," Weber said as he hung up the earpiece.
Fallensteller smiled. "Excellent. You'll come with us, Mr. Weber. Mesahri, you too."
Mesahri froze up. "Captain, I'd rather not," she said quietly, having heard the truth aboard the Blixtvåg and fearful of Fallensteller's intentions.
"That's an order, Officer," Fallensteller countered. "Or do I not have your trust?" she asked a bit threateningly. Mesahri glanced to Schuster, who looked on her with an urgency in his eyes, but she couldn't tell if he was urging her to run or to cooperate.
"O- okay..." Mesahri replied. "I trust you, Captain."
Fallensteller nodded, businesslike. "Good. The rest of you will stay here with the Commander for now."
---
The whole group made its way through the ship rather curiously; onlookers were quite surprised by the odd mix of differently ranked and tasked officers accompanying the captain, but Fallensteller refused to answer any questions along the way. Meanwhile, quartermasters were already implementing the housing changes across the ship. Only around 10% of the sailors were actually being moved, but that still meant more than a hundred changes in sleeping arrangements in order to set up the segregation. Soon, they made their way to the brig, and there, they met with Pawlitzky and his handful of men.
"All of you except for Weber and Mesahri, wait out here. I'm going with the Lieutenant and his men into the cell block."
One of the younger Petty Officers objected once more. "Captain, please, can you tell us what this is about?"
Fallensteller smiled, mysteriously. "Well, I don't want to spoil anything for you all, but you can think of it as a game. That's all I'll say for now."
Once Fallensteller and Mesahri had departed the Blixtvåg submerged once more and began its journey back to Niakoma where Jäger would attend a meeting with the local administration. He marched through the corridors and spotted Yarah entering one of the restrooms.
Silently he entered behind her and just as she located the note left by Mesahri he ambushed Yarah, pressing her up against the wall. He took the note and tore it to shreds.
"We need to talk. Come."
After letting go of Yarah the two of them walked to the conference room. There Jäger locked the door and told Yarah to sit.
"Speak freely. You will not tell me any lies."
Inside the cell block, Pawlitzki, Weber, Mesahri, and four riflemen stood in a close circle with Fallensteller, some of them wondering the same things as the petty officers outside the brig. Why was I promoted? What's going on with the command structure? Why are people being moved around? They quickly had their answer.
"Inside this room, no one can hear us," Fallensteller began with a grin. "If they could, then what I am about to say would have me removed from command and probably shot. Perhaps, the same as the rest of you. You all have something in common, as do I: there's a darkness inside of you. You can feel yourself out of step with this fleet... if not physically, you feel it spiritually. That's why you've all gone to the Reverend, trying to purify yourselves. But empty words do you no good, do they? How many times have you prayed to the Pentarchy? How badly does their silence frighten you?"
One of the young men began to back away from the circle, awe-stricken in horror as the reality of the situation set in. Captain Fallensteller was calling together a cult, and expected him to be one of its first recruits. Sure, he had gone to Rev. Pfeiffer and told him about his dreams; he had even called out to Raum once, in a terrible nightmare wherein he was drowning in pitch. But that didn't mean he was willing to betray the fleet, or to place his soul in the terrible jeopardy of Raum's religion of evil. Oh my gods... she's really... I have to-
A powerful grip seized upon his arm, and the young man looked up to find Lt. Pawlitzky staring down at him, stone-faced and with his pistol drawn. "No," he said calmly. "No one leaves this room until the Captain says so. We've been chosen." The other riflemen present shifted uneasily, looking at each other in a mixture of surreal fear and morbid curiosity.
"That's right," Fallensteller said. "From the moment the Reverend recorded you among the other heretics aboard this vessel, you were one of us. I know it wasn't your choice to sail aboard this vessel, but nonetheless, every decision you've made has brought you to this room, and fate has called you to His sea, and into His service. There is no turning back."
"What are you talking about?" Weber suddenly interrupted. "What the hell is any of this?"
"Captain, you're scaring me," Mesahri muttered.
Fallensteller shook her head. "All I've done is reveal something which should never have been kept from you. Why do you all fear Raum?" Fallensteller asked rhetorically.
"Because-" a man started to say, but Fallensteller sharply interrupted him.
"Because you were told to fear him! By Mannfred, the sorcerer, the fraud!" she howled. "I know more of Mannfred than anyone in this fleet aside from his own officers, and I can tell you that you've been made a victim as few others in the history of mankind until this moment. Now hear me! As mortal creatures, you all have wandered through your life, blindfolded, unaware of the mysticism of the world around you. Your gods, the Pentarchy... your whole life, their names have been nothing but words in a book. Have they done anything for you? Have they ever spoken to you? No, they have not. The world was fully mundane and physical.
"And yet you trusted that they were not only there, but that their word is and always has been law. You continued on, heads bowed in pointless prayer, shackled to a hoax of a religion until you sailed this sea. Now, suddenly there's a ray of light, some laughable smidgen of hope to cling onto that all the wasted years of devotion will somehow net you a place in heaven aside Lodur himself. But deep down, you know that it isn't true. While Raum pounds at the door, announcing his presence at every turn and waiting eagerly for your reply, even here, the Pentarchy is absent, utterly and completely silent. And you hate that fact because it threatens to rob you of your eternal reward... you believe, unquestioningly, that service in Raum's name will net you fire and brimstone, damnation in full... and you believe it because Mannfred told you so.
"You also believe that he can somehow break the silence. He's tempted you with the promise of resurrecting the fallen, disgraced gods of ancient history to defeat the great evil he has invented. Do you want to know the bitter truth? The gods did battle once before, and it nearly destroyed this world, but there was a clear champion- the one true God of all mankind. I've seen Him, resting, regaining strength after a battle so intense it damaged the very fabric of reality. He would have returned many ages ago, had not the petty gods maintained their dominion over so many hapless human souls over the intervening millennia."
"What good does it do the Admiral to lie?" Weber demanded.
Fallensteller smiled, viciously. "The Admiral isn't who he claims to be. In fact, he isn't even human! Admiral Mannfred is none other than a greater demon named Calcifer, a traitor who turned on the Lord during the war and has been running, hiding, and building accomplices in a plot to assassinate our Lord before His righteous judgement can be delivered. And that is where you entered the picture, a lot of useful idiots to be used as fodder for his plans. Do you really believe that we're raiding Nadesh because their worship threatens the world? How strange that only now, on the brink of Raum's return, does Nadesh require our attention."
"Then why are we attacking?" another petty officer asked, seeming eerily calm and serious compared to Weber.
"Because of the artifacts they possess," Fallensteller replied, grimly. "I don't know what the Admiral expects to find there, but it has to truly be powerful if he expects to challenge his former Master. And I can say that this must be his motive because the very notion that Nadesh worships Raum is wrong. The Messenger revealed to me that the Nadeshi have long-since lost their way and likely cannot be saved. If their prayers and their sacrifices aren't directed at Raum, then what threat do they pose to the world?"
Mesahri blinked, barely able to follow along with the story despite hearing parts of it once before, at Jäger's table. But the more Fallensteller spoke, the more she began to appreciate the stakes of the struggle within the expedition. She never would have believed it otherwise, but to see her speak with such conviction, it was clear that the Captain believed her actions prior to reaching Cattan were fully necessary in the struggle against the Admiral, and that conviction was somehow... infectious. Especially since, if Fallensteller was to be believed, the Admiral was planning to launch an invasion under false pretenses as a beginning to something even more sinister.
"You've been blessed with a choice that few others will ever be offered. Your soul is drawn, like mine, to a higher calling than Calcifer and his petty machinations. The Lord is set to inherit the world, and that darkness, that corruption that you all feel in the bottom of your hearts is His embrace. Don't fight it any longer. As mortals, you are too weak to avoid being servants to someone, but don't be slaves to anyone who would deceive you while He stands, open and honest, in his power and magnanimity."
One of the riflemen, a young woman, in fact, nodded, having offered no sign of her opinion the whole time. "Okay," she said firmly, looking side to side at the others' reactions. "I haven't believed the Admiral since he lied to us from the very beginning. The Captain's right. We didn't sign up to get involved in a war between Gods, it's not fair that we don't even get to pick a side. It's like we were conscripted... But Raum is real, I've been having dreams just like the rest of you. If he can see every one of us and pick and choose who he wants at his side when he returns, I don't want to fight it. I want to be on the winning side," she said.
"Then welcome, Officer Geissler," Fallensteller said with a broad smile.
"It's mutiny, then," the other silent rifleman in the room finally spoke up. "But... I can't see how we wouldn't. This whole situation is a mess, but I agree with Geissler. This expedition isn't what Mannfred said it was the first time, and it's definitely not what he's claiming it is, now. I'm scared, but I've always believed in you, Captain. I won't let you down, now." He gave a determined salute.
"You're in good company, Reiher," said Pawlitzky, saluting as well.
"It's good to have you both on board," Fallensteller added. "What about you two, Borchard, Portner?"
Borchard agreed immediately. "We're not just a bunch of random officers, remember that. We have a connection with Raum. If the other gods are dead or as weak as they seem to be, then we have something that 99% of this fleet's personnel don't. I don't think it'd be smart to turn my back on that."
Portner was still being gripped by Pawlitzky, but less harshly so. He hung his head. "Are you all against me, then? What happens if I say no?"
Fallensteller hesitated. "In the end," she said, "everyone who says no to God will be wiped out by His return. Until that day, those of us who've been chosen will have to fight for our survival and for His name."
"In other words," Weber summarized, "you're going to kill us if we try to escape?" Unlike everyone else in the room, not only was Weber utterly opposed to the conspiracy, he was also ready to fight to save himself. "I wasn't on that list you were talking about, was I? So why don't you just replace me with someone who'll do what you want?"
"Because if we killed everyone who wasn't chosen, then we'd be killing off everyone who's not in this room," Borchard said as a matter-of-fact. "We need to prove we can convince others to join us."
"Exactly!" Fallensteller beamed, overjoyed at her new follower's instincts.
Pawlitzky spoke up. "Do we have the wire available?" he asked.
Fallensteller shook her head. "I have it here," she said, patting her coat pocket, "but we don't have time for that. Don't want any more Ackermanns... Instead, I have a better idea, one that's a bit faster. Portner, Weber, this is your last chance to join us willingly."
"And how do I join, then?" Weber demanded. "Do I just say, 'sure, let's be heretics' and then everything's fine and dandy?"
"Of course not," Fallensteller replied, darkly.
Mesahri felt sick to her stomach, but she forced herself to speak. "Uh, Captain? What about me?"
"You've never served any gods before, so what difference does it make to you? I don't think I'll have to force you. Or will I?"
The bat shook her head. "No ma'am."
Fallensteller calmed down a bit. "Alright, let me show you how to prove your loyalty. Hold out your hand, Mesahri," Fallensteller said, and she did as she was told. She took Mesahri's hand in her own before reaching into her coat pocket and producing the knife. "This is a holy blade, Mesahri. The Lord's Messenger gave it to me, and each servant I've found him so far has been cut by the same instrument. "May I?" she asked.
Fearfully, Mesahri nodded. The others in the room stood by, spellbound, their hearts pounding as they anxiously waited to see what the Captain would do.
Fallensteller took the tip of the knife and created a small cut across Mesahri's wrist, and a trickle of blood dribbled forth. "There's a first-aid kit in the box on that wall," Fallensteller said. Take a bandage out and wrap yourself up, it shouldn't bleed very long. Geissler, you're next." One by one, the officers agreed to be cut by the blade, to sacrifice blood to Raum. Even Portner eventually relented as he watched one after another of his comrades take the small gash and walk away calmly. Perhaps he had been expecting something more dramatic. In the end, only Weber still refused.
"I dare you, Rabenschwarz. Kill me and prove to the fleet what you are."
"Pawlitzky, Borchard, walk Weber into this cell and keep your hands on him. I know how to handle this," Fallensteller instructed as she exited into the attached Warden's office, which was vacant. She returned with a set of wrist irons. "Put his hands through the door," she ordered, and once Weber had been forced to shove his arms through, he began to shout for help. "I told you, Mr. Weber, no one can hear us in here," Fallensteller explained as she placed the cuffs on his wrists, the chain cross over bars in the door so that Weber couldn't pull his hands back through. Fallensteller then took out the knife and sliced a very deep gash in the man's forearm so that blood began to pour freely.
"Oh gods, oh gods! Help me!" Weber said as he struggled. The others in the room either stared or turned away, but no one came to his aid.
Fallensteller looked him in the eye. "Mr. Weber, listen closely. I sacrificed Petty Officer Pletcher in my own quarters, but there was no cadaver or evidence to the kill. Is that how you want your life to end? To simply disappear as a sacrifice in the name of the one true Lord? Or will you pledge yourself, now and forever, to be His servant?"
"N-no! Please!" he yelled as he got down on his knees. "One of you, step in and stop this, I'm begging you, don't let her do this to me."
"You have a limited time to make your decision and it's running out," Fallensteller urged him.
Weber began to feel sick and lightheaded, and knew that he would die soon. His heart was pounding, trying to maintain pressure, but it was a losing battle. "Oh- OKAY, FINE! I'LL SERVE, I'LL SERVE, RAUM, DO YOU HEAR ME? I'M GONNA BE THE BEST DAMNED... THE BEST... huff..." Weber trailed off as the blood loss wore on him.
"Get his arm wrapped up," Fallensteller ordered, and Geissler sprung into action. Once they had him patched closed, Pawlitzky offered to take him to the ship's hospital. "Not yet," Fallensteller replied. "I'm going to send in the officers we have waiting outside. You all will initiate them, tell them exactly what I told you. If they agree to serve," she said, placing the blade in Pawlitzky's hand, "bring them in gently. If they don't, put their arms through the cell doors, just like I showed you. We'll see how many take the second option when they see Weber chained up the way he is. Mesahri, come with me. We need to get ready for von Strauss."
Cattapoli, Revenant
"You may travel with us, if you think it will help. I cannot promise you will find answers on our journey, nor will it be a simple one, but I will not turn you away. There are many answers in this terrible sea. Most are unpleasant. If you believe you can ward your heart to such troubles, then I welcome your company," the admiral explained solemnly.
A few sailors were heard outside the room. They ambled up to the door but were stopped by the other sailor who was accompanying Mannfred. It seemed like a team or crew were off shift and expecting to stop by the lounge.
Cattapoli, Felis' House of Wine
Kitta didn't look terribly convinced, but the young Niakoman took the bag of money and nodded slowly.
"Alright, Nita. If its only for a few months then I'm sure it'll be fine. Ma won't like it... neither will pa, but the money will keep things settled for a long time. I'll run this home now and finish off my work for the night, and then I'll pack my things. Where are we meeting?"
Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse
"Science. I... see...." by the way Kyndreth spoke, it was clear she didn't quite see with the clarity she expressed. In a world of magic, science often lagged woefully behind. The machines made today were a complete marvel to those who lived in the distant past. After all, it was as Kyndreth had suggested. Why use engines to fly a ship when magic sufficed?
She glanced all around as the little boat was pulled up into the airship. Even at this height, the view from being lifted up was rather remarkable. They could see over most of the docks and lower portion of the city, and their eyes were met with red-tiled roofs, the tops of green palm trees, and flat rooftops where Cattan were relaxing. A slight evening wind was blowing and the small boat rocked gently as it was pulled into the bay of the Eissenstrasse.
Kyndreth examined all the individuals present, likely assessing their threat level to her charge. It was clear these men were under Krantz's command, but that didn't meant they couldn't be dangerous. Mutiny, traitors, and ambitious subordinates were all dangers she had to be aware of. She didn't seem to mind the crew staring at her - it just meant she could watch them all the better.
It wasn't long before they were on the bridge. The demon listened closely to everything that was said, realizing that there was a battle coming up eventually from the way Krantz was talking. Storming the cardinal's palace? That sounded like there would be a fight. It had been a long time since she had been in a large scale scrap, but she was prepared. Krantz would not fall so long as she drew breath.
She looked Von Strauss over with a critical eye when the woman arrived. Kyndreth could sense the lingering magic on her and she instantly remembered that Krantz said there was no coven aboard his ship. Was she the ships mage? Or perhaps a rogue artificer? Maybe an herbalist?
True to her duty, she leaned in and quietly whispered to Krantz. "This woman has a whiff of sorcery about her. Do you know this?"
Veranhal, Blitzwave
Yarah-kei looked around the empty bathroom with a frown. She didn't really know what she was doing, but Mesahri had given her a pretty intense look after her visit here. Her notebook had been gone, too. A cursory inspection of the small room brought up nothing. No book on the counter or hidden somewhere on the floor. She paused for a moment to adjust her hair in the mirror, smiling at her exotic looks, before going back to search.
She cautiously opened one of the strange stalls and looked around the porcelain chairs, before looking in the next. It wasn't hard to spot the journal tucked away in an empty waste basket. Yarah picked it up and examined it. What was she supposed to do with this?
Figuring it would be best to study it later, she hiked up her sundress and slipped the book into the band of her undergarments. It was the only place she could conceal it on her person. She had hidden plenty of knives or sharp objects like this before. It was a little heavy, but it fit well enough along the small of her back and rear. It wasn't very obvious that there was a book back there, and as long as she didn't jump around, it should stay in.
She was only a few steps out of the bathroom when Jager appeared. He took her arm and walked her off to the conference room, sitting her down and reascending her order of silence. Though he was catching on. Tell no lies. Great.
"I didn't like the submarine trip, and I don't like that woman. She's bad and dangerous. That little bat was the only one with a conscious. Anyways, what do you want me to say? I had an urge to visit the bathroom. Other than that, I've been by your side the entire time."
"This woman has a whiff of sorcery about her. Do you know this?"
"Oh, yes. The admiral informed me about it. She's apparently aligned with the chaos god Veritas, but did so at her own accord a few days ago without my knowledge." he quietly said to Kyndreth, before turning to face Von Strauss completely. "Von Strauss, this is Lady Kyndreth. As I told Váradi, she will be my bodyguard from now on. You are to treat her as you would me. Understood?" he stated, motioning to Kyndreth with a wave of his hand.
Von Strauss studied Kyndreth for a moment, before nodding. "Understood, sir." she responded. Several thoughts popped into the back of her mind regarding why she was even needed, but she forced them out as she stepped closer to Krantz. "Here is the prototype for a new sub-machine gun, made using some of our sidearms as bases. I'm sure Váradi has already told you about it." she explained, as she held out the weapon to Krantz.
He looked it over, examing the modifications. Heatshield, foregrip, a folding stock, detachable magazine. "...Excellent. Váradi, take it and have it test fired. I'll be expecting a report later regarding its performance." he stated after a few moments, turning and handing the weapon off to Váradi. "Understood, sir." he responded, before departing from the bridge.
Krantz then turned back to Von Strauss. "You should probably get in touch with the Zuflucht, and see if they're ready for you." he said, glancing to the communications officer nearby. Von Strauss nodded, before heading over to where the comms officer was sitting. A moment later, a message was being sent to the Zuflucht.
Vunor straightened himself out of his bow and composed himself. "We of the Iron Hills do not waver in our oaths, nor our resolve in the face of any adversity." Vunor said reassuringly, "I must ask a favor as well. Back in my home, the last time I visited, a band of warriors had been eager to seek adventure and battle of any sort. If they so desire, may they join me as well? I believe they would be of great help in the battle to come."
---
Nita gleefuly jumped up and hugged Kitta. "Just meet outside right here in 2-3 hours or so! The others will be here too, so well be setting off soon."
Jäger grunted. "Tell me every thought of yours regarding Fallensteller. This is a dangerous game, as you've most likely noticed, and I need every bit of advantage that I can get. What do you think of Mesahri? What about the grand meeting earlier today?"
Veranhal, Blitzwave
"That Fallensteller is a dark, wicked woman. She reminds me of those creepy marketplace necromancers I used to see in Velenhaus. She's clearly trying to manipulate you, which won't be hard since she has more magic than you do. I mean, she doesn't even have a heart beat. I can't affect dead things. I already tried on her and nothing happened, which confirms it," Yarah explained easily.
"And Mesahri seems like a nice girl thats going to be ruined, I suspect. I thought she was a concubine at first. Thats what she strikes me as. Something to be used. Which she will be, if she is around that woman for much longer."
"I might want your heart, Jager, but Fallensteller wants your soul," she said, cocking her head to the side. "You'll die either way, but one is a little painful and the other is full of torment. Your choice."
Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse
Kyndreth nodded in understanding as Krantz explained the situation concerning Von Strauss. The name Veritas sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't remember a god by that name. Perhaps they were a new god? Admittedly, she wasn't very well versed on theology so it was not a surprising matter. She only knew a handful of gods and goddesses.
The demon relaxed just a little bit knowing that Von Strauss wasn't an apparent rogue sorceress. She examined the bridge a little more, taking note of the entrances and exits, as well as who looked the most formidable or sly. Anyone of these people could slip a dagger into Krantz's back. At no point could she let her guard down. Kyndreth remained only a couple feet away from Krantz, watching over him and the surroundings.
Cattapoli, Felis' House of Wine
Kitta returned the hug in a somewhat half-hearted manner. "Alright, alright. I'll be back shortly, I need to take this money home and talk to my parents. And I need to let Felis know I'm dipping out."
The young girl hefted the bag up and carried it towards the front of the establishment, disappearing around a corner and likely headed to talk to Felis first before going home.
Cattapoli, Revenant
The admiral thought about the proposition for a moment. There were plenty of beastfolk joining up with the fleet it seemed, and he always welcomed the manpower. But the more religious natured warriors could prove somewhat troublesome in the future.
"They may join," Mannfred nodded. "Is there a particular ship you wish to sail upon? Some are already close to capacity, and others already have Cattan on board if you would prefer their company."
---
The hospital deck was truly one of the greater features of the Revenant. Despite being a dreadnought class ship that was enshrouded in heavy armor and bristling with powerful gun turrets, it boasted many other features that were integral to the well-being of the crew. Since the ship was practically a small floating city, the hospital deck contained several dozen cots, an isolation room, a specialized surgical room, a primary clinic, pharmacy, and several other small rooms which could be utilized as needed. The most remarkable feature of the main surgical room was that the operating table was mounted on a circular gyroscopic platform. Even in heavy seas, the surgeon and assistants would be able to operate relatively easily without being tossed about.
Chief Medical Officer Cynthia Baptiste oversaw the entire medical ward, which consisted of several surgeons, physicians, specialists, and nurses. A number of sailors and marines were certified medics under the training of Baptiste and her doctors, contributing to the general well being of the crew. Health matters were an important concern, especially in the lost sea. Any treatment that was expected back home and was necessary was expected to be performed onboard.
Refrigeration was a marvelous invention that had come to be within the past decade. It had not only transformed food storage, but medical storage as well. No more iceboxes or chemical-coolers needed. So long as the electricity was running, things would stay cool. The blood-bank onboard had a small dedicated staff who looked after the storage of every blood type available, while constantly taking in new donors. In fact, blood donation was a requirement for nearly every crewman and marine on the Revenant. Through careful scheduling, no one would be overdrawn or forced to give blood too many times in a short period. Of course, most of this blood wasn't being stored for long.
"Private Dryers," Nurse Helena said, "what seems to be the problem?"
The small office had a dozen sailors and marines waiting to donate blood. There were two chairs set up in the corner of the room, protected by little divider screens, where nurses were drawing blood. A record player was sitting near the waiting chairs and playing a soft orchestral tune. Electrical fans on the ceiling helped keep the air cool and circulated.
Dryers was pale and looking rather gaunt, with grey rings under his eyes and rather visible veins in his hands and wrists.
"Its the hunger, miss. Sergeant Donovan told me to report for three additional rations," he explained somewhat meekly. He held out a sheet of paper.
The nurse scanned the sheet for a moment and nodded. "Well, you aren't the first. The excitement with that fire and that little scuffle the admiral was apart of has caused a few of you boys to feel it more than usual," she explained with a little sigh. Her eyes examined his uniform. Below the marine insignia on his shoulder was a patch of a white skull and red tear drop.
"And I can see that you are one of his Archangels. Its you boys who especially have to be careful," she scolded him.
The young marine nodded again. "I understand, ma'am, but the admiral went all out at the fight, so some of us had to as well."
Nurse Helena sighed again but told the marine to wait where he was. She headed off into the storage room and returned after a minute with a small cloth bundle. Within were three large vials of dark red blood. They were just glass tubes, but had metal screw tops and a series of rubber rings around the vial to protect it from shattering.
"Three more rations. Withdrawal is easier to deal with, but monitor yourself closely. None of us want an overdose, private."
Dryers gingerly picked up one of the vials and unscrewed the top. He placed it to his lips and drank half of it right away. When he pulled it away, a little drop of blood stained his lips.
The effects had yet to process, but already his eyes were looking a little brighter. He had a subtle shake to his hand earlier that was already gone. Dryers had closed the top back up around the vial and carefully set it back in the cloth bundle. He smiled widely at the nurse.
"I appreciate it, ma'am. Have a good evening."
The marine left just as the next two sailors were called up to donate blood.
Jäger nodded. "I am aware." He crossed his arms. "What did you do with Mesahri? More lies and deception from that snake tongue of yours?"
Fontaine had retired to his quarters after the ordeal. There was still time he had on his hands, so he was writing his side of the report he was going to deliver to Mannfred. A few details were going to be omitted of course, but as long as there was no trace of corruption on board the Eye, why would he care? "If you're keeping secrets from us, then we can keep minor details to ourselves for the sake of morale.' He rationalized it to himself so well. Some may take this as hypocrisy and they would likely be right. He didn't give a damn what they thought. 'What mattered was the results damn it!'
He stopped when his inner thoughts affecting his writing. His usual clear cursive was becoming more rough to read. This was strange. Usually he remained perfectly calm when writing these things, often times becoming bored. Maybe the day was getting to him. Or maybe the sea was at fault. Possibly both. Fontaine reached for the top drawer and pulled out two old friends. A glass and a bottle of whiskey. Same bottle they had opened that night when the four discussed the plan. 'So much for being saved for good moments only.' He thought while twisting the cap off and poured himself a shot. 'Then again, an hour ago I was pretty happy with myself.' He drank like it was a shotglass and leaned back in his chair. The strong taste made him close his eyes for a second.
"I never understood how you liked that swill." He opened those eyes pretty quick when he heard the voice. Looking up he saw who spoke and his jaw hung so low it might have hit the desk.
"Jacob?" He said with a fright in his voice. "But...how...you're not supposed to be here!"
"Really?" 'Jacob' looked quisically at him. He scratched his chin and looked around the room. "I suppose you're right. But I'm here now. So partner, what are we doing here?"
"You're not my partner." Reginald calmly replied
"Ouch. That hurts. After everything I did for you Regie, you throw me under the train tracks?"
"You were going to sell me out." The reply came with a hint of anger.
"Ah you're still mad about that? Reggie come on. You were a crooked cop and I had made detective. You should know what something like that would do for my career." Jacob's smile turned to a grimace. "But you knew. You knew damn well what it would mean for you if I cracked that case. Reveal what type of man the people of New Yorkenshire trusted to protect them."
"You weren't so clean yourself."
"I had my vices. But nothing what you presented as 'evidence' was anywhere close to the truth." He rolled up his sleeve. "It destroyed me. It really did. It send me down a spiral." He held up his hand, giving Fontaine a good look at the wrists. One giant cut down the artery. Fontaine stared at him for a few seconds in disbelief.
"Am I supposed to feel sorry for this? You started a rat race with me and...." Reginald shook his head "Why am I wasting time with you? You're dead! You've been dead for more than a decade." The sea was playing tricks on him, it had to be. This was a illusion caused by the stress. Nothing more than some trick. "Get off my ship, I have business to take care of and I'm not wasting time with you."
Jacob looked at him with a smug expression. "If you're so busy, why are you asleep then?"
---
Fontaine opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep while writing the report. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep. 'When did I fall asleep?...Just a damn dream...Why did I dream about him?' The thoughts about the dream dissipated when he looked at his watch. It was around that time. He got up from his chair and began to get dresses for his meeting with captain Tobey.
No fancy clothes like this morning's were necessary. Just a coat, shirt and tie he would wear normally. He picked up his cane and walked to the bridge.
"I'll be leaving for a meeting. Contact the Mariner's boon and tell them they can expect us to come soon carrying the requested ammunition and that I'm looking forward to discuss things further with the captain."
"I do feel like I need to repeat my warning from earlier." Karam spoke against his captain's wishes "This is one deal where you're not the devil, captain. I really think you should reconsider."
"Karam, your wisdom and experience are something I always take into consideration." Fontaine began "Even when I don't ask for them."
"Then maybe you should consider them further?"
"I'm not exactly very popular with the fleet if you haven't noticed. If someone offers their hand as an ally, I'm obligated to take a closer look at them. Less I end up with no support at all."
"But I think this might be a..."
"That's enough!" Fontaine cut him short "We'll continue this when I return. Until then you know what your job here is."
"Yes. Captain."
---
The schiff was loaded with crates filled with the deadly payloads. As per protocol, there would be at least two company men near them at all times with the knowledge of the ins and outs of the cargo. They looked nervously at it and at the captain as he climbed aboard. It was packed tightly and secured, so there shouldn't be reason to worry about something leaking, but you can never be too careful with this sort of stuff.
The platform descended down lowering them to the waters below. Once they hit the waves, the schiff made its way towards the Mariner's Boon.
Vunor pondered the question for a moment, thinking it over. "Perhaps my services would be best suited for destroying this Cathedral you speak of, for the time being. If they indeed have sorcerers, then you need all the help you can get."
As Von Strauss dealt with the communications officer and the radio, Krantz looked about before returning to Kyndreth. "...I believe I should go ahead and give you a tour of the vessel. So you know the general layout and where everything is." he said, before looking at a nearby officer and giving him a nod. "First off, this is the lower bridge. I say lower because there is another bridge on the top of this vessel. That one is mainly used for meetings or during air battles." he continued, looking back to her. He then motioned for her to follow as he departed for the exit.
The tour took them all around the Eisenstrasse, from bow to stern. Observation areas, the barracks, the armory, medical bay, storage, cargo hold, engine rooms, gun nests, Krantz took Kyndreth everywhere. It was best to know the ship you were to serve on thoroughly, so you'd be prepared for any situation. Eventually, Krantz and Kyndreth would run across Ephraim and Kass near the barracks as they were heading back towards Krantz's quarters. "Mr. Brose, nice to see you about. And you must be one of the Kobolds that my first officer told me about." said Krantz, looking between the two and folding his arms behind his back as the pair stopped.
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