Madeline's wings snapped in the crisp mountain air as she descended toward the fire. She was small, as dragons went, only about ten feet long. But then she was made of wood and cloth, both painted in varying shades of red and black. A pair of upswept horns framed a distinctly sinister face, but the eyes were alight with merriment, not malice.
“I'm glad you lit the faiah,” she said, her odd accent a familiar and joyful sound to Celia's ears. “Theah's a whole lot of nathing out heah. Without it I would've been satching fah owahs.”
“Speaking of that,” Cagna growled. “Are you okay to do set out immediately to find the ship? They've got a day's headstart, and all we know is that they went East.”
“That's wheah I got you,” Madeline's grin showed a lot of sharpened steel teeth. “Garon's not just my husbahnd, he's my rulah. Threadbah's been sending Glub's coordinates to Garon via decree, and Garon checks them against the maps and tells me wheah they ah with his own decrees. And they ain't fah, dahlings. Oh not at all.”
“That's a lot of decrees!” Squeaked Fluffbear.
“Yeah, but it wahks,” Madeline nodded. “And if weah off a bit, we only have to correct a few decrees.”
Despite herself, despite her mood and the emotions that had been chasing around in the back of her mind, Celia felt her face twist into a smile. Felt a bit of her tension ease.
Madeline looked down in surprise as Celia walked forward and hugged her. “Thank you. For coming so far. For helping me, for being here for this.”
“Ah... ya welcome,” Madeline said, and folded a claw over her. “I'm sahry I had to make you wait an' all.”
“You were getting married!” Kayin burst out. “It's fiiiiiinnnne.”
“Is most important t'ing,” Zuula said, stomping forward, and looking the dragon up and down. “Besides, dey ran like bitches. Didn't miss nothing. Now we go and kick all de ass.”
“I was hoping ya'd say that,” Madeline said, and reached behind her, undoing part of a harness with a few quick tugs. “Get in the bag, and I'll land and let you out when I got eyes on the prize...”
The room was about fifteen feet by ten feet wide. It was made of black stone, with red painted dragons caught mid-flight hosing each other down with fire. It was the inside of Madeline's pack of holding, the result of a skill that made an extra-dimensional space capable of transporting any goods a Merchant would care to put inside of their enchanted container.
It was a simple skill, every Merchant learned it at level one. It was nice for keeping goods secure during trips, or even in longer-term situations.
It was an easy skill, both to practice and to level up.
It was an exploitable skill, that had caused the doom of the unwary, smuggled small armies, and toppled kingdoms.
It was so broken that the god of fairness himself had changed how it worked several times over the last few decades, and reportedly had entire courts of angelic beings dedicated to arguing, debating, and lawyering out every possible usage of the skill. Said courts were rumored to have not taken a break from their debate for the last seven years.
And it was a skill that Madeline happily used to carry all her friends as she soared into the night, confident that they were safe and sound for at least the next thirteen hours.
Celia put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room, and watched her living allies lay out their bedrolls and turn in for the night. Bastien had tried to help her, Thomasi had helped her, and Cagna had mostly grumbled but been a solid team player all throughout this mess.
She owed them better. And she thought she knew how to do a proper job with that.
“What now? More hurry up and wait?” Zuula asked.
“Shhhh!” Fluffbear said. “They're going sleepies!”
“We can hear you,” Cagna growled. “And don't worry about us. Now that we're off that cold mountaintop I'll sleep through anything short of a parade.”
“A parade would be really fun right about now,” Fluffbear squeaked. “Maybe too short, though. Not enough people.”
“We'll have one later, when we get back home,” Celia promised.
“I get to throw candy,” Kayin said, hopping over to stand on Zuula's head. “So what do we do to pass the time?”
“We plan,” Celia said. Her eyes strayed to the massive form of the Muscle Wizaard as he stretched out, and enveloped Cagna in his burly arms. “The only way we're going to succeed against the pirates is if we play this as a team. So we're going to use this time to talk and figure out some good tactics, and after our new friends get some sleep we're going to bring them into the discussion and ensure everyone gets out of this alive.”
Six or seven hours later, as Celia was using a pointer to move pieces around on a small battlemap, Madeline poked a hand into the pack and waggled her claws.
“Finally!” Zuula burst out, and charged right into the clutching draconic fingers. “Enough talk! Now is the doing!”
Both hand and puppet vanished back into the darkness beyond the edge of the room, and Celia folded up the battlemap while Kayin collected the pieces.
“That one's going to be a handful,” Thomasi said, staring at the darkness.
“Zuula's hot-tempered, but she's wise,” Celia said, as she tucked the strategy kit back into her own pack. “And she cares about her friends far more than she cares about random violence.”
“I don't know about far more,” Kayin said. “Mostly more. Kinda more. A bit more, maybe?”
The hand reappeared again, and Cagna rolled her eyes. “I'll go make sure she isn't charging off before we get there,” the dog woman said and took Madeline's hand in her own.
“Your wife's a good one. Definitely a keeper,” Thomasi told the Muscle Wizaard.
And to Celia's surprise, the Wrestler blushed crimson, blood-red against his white beard. “We're uh... we're not married.”
“You're not married yet,” Thomasi said, and slapped his back. “If you need help finding a ring, let me know. Probably best done before we return, while we're still away from Chase and Greta. Getting hobb... halven involved with rings is a recipe for disaster.”
Celia and Kayin looked at each other as Madeline's hand returned, and both Thomasi and Bastien took their leave. And to her surprise, Celia felt a bit embarrassed at witnessing an intimate moment.
“Well,” she said, a bit too loudly. “Ready to go?”
To her surprise, Kayin stepped in and hugged her. “Always. And it's good to see you being you again, boss.”
“I...” Celia patted her back, then pushed her gently away. “Let's hope I can keep it up,” she said, trying to keep a note of worry out of her tone.
“You will,” Kayin said, giving Celia a nod. “Just got lost in the details for a while. I'll help keep you from getting stuck again.”
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The dragon's hand came in once more, and the two of them held hands as they returned to reality.
It was dawn now; they had made good time. They were in a pine forest upslope of a river valley, with the smoke of civilization rising from a collection of buildings where a crescent of cleared land met the water.
But it was more than the smoke of civilization.
The black clouds of war billowed upward from the wreckage of a town wall, bombarded and breached.
They rose to blend with white smoke that poured ceaselessly from a point just northeast of Celia's own position, where a very familiar airship sat in a clearing, cannons firing raggedly at what looked like a roiling mass of black and gold liquid, a small river's worth of fluid that was rushing uphill toward the vessel.
It wasn't moving exactly like liquid though, and Celia decided a closer look was in order. And fortunately she had a skill for that—
—was what she thought, when she remembered her earlier discussions. Why waste sanity when there was already a superior Scout on the team?
“Cagna? What are we looking at, here?”
“Ground bees. Lots of them. There's a major hive here and the pirates kicked it,” Cagna sounded smug. “This makes things easy. Just have to let the pirates wear themselves down on the swarm and then we can swoop in for the kill.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” Thomasi said. “From what I've seen, if you sit back and play let's you and him fight too much, then the winner levels up and you end up facing them while they're stronger. And that's a lot of bees.”
“You know let's you and him fight?” Zuula said, surprised. “She was tinkin' dat only an orc game.”
“Oh no, It's pretty universal in any culture sufficiently evolved for treachery,” Thomasi said, squatting next to her. “I guarantee you elves were building dynasties with it or similar strategies long before humans or orcs were ever around...”
“We can discuss it after we deal with the situation,” Celia said, hauling out Kindness. “From this distance my activation shouts should be lost in the cannonfire. We'll come in hot, breach the ship, seize Threadbare and any other captives, and get back to Madeline, lift off and leave this mess behind. Everyone clear with the plan?”
“I've got a suggestion,” Fluffbear squeaked.
Celia fought down a wave of impatience. “I'm listening.”
“Let's check to make sure he's still on the ship first!”
The cannons belched, and bees disintegrated, trees going with them. Cannister shot mowed them like lawn. But they cared not, and swarmed upwards regardless, parting to flank the airship.
After what seemed like long moments finding calmness, Celia nodded. “Do it Cagna, please. Quickly.”
The dog woman turned and put her hand over the side of her mouth, talking to the air. And after a second, she turned back, ears straight up, eyes wide. “He's not in the ship. He's in the tunnels under the town. He's trying to get Anne and some crew out of there alive.”
“What? Why would he...” Celia realized she was shouting, and fought to get back to some vestige of calmness. “Okay. We can disregard the ship. Tell him we're coming to save him, and we'll go from there.”
Cagna tilted her head. “Wait, he's giving more... okay. Okay, I'm just relaying things here. And you're not going to like it, but what we do with this is your call...”
And as she explained, Cagna was right. Celia didn't like it, not one bit.
But...
After Cagna was done, Celia knew that the choice was hers. And that helped. Gave her a bit of clarity to fight back the demons in her skull that were shouting at her to just go and do it, get it over with, fucking end this nonsense for good.
She'd done that last time. And she'd almost gotten people killed. No, no. This time she had to trust her best friend. And even if it didn't work out like he hoped, then at least they'd be working together, not against each other.
WIS+1
That sealed the deal and settled it. She popped open the cockpit of Kindness and started clambering inside. “Right. Threadbare said this Stormanorm fellow was manning the ship?”
Cagna nodded. “Unless he's dead. But he's pretty tough, so probably.”
“Okay. Take Thomasi and infiltrate the town, go try and help Threadbare and the others escape. Fluffbear, hop into Cagna's cloak pocket and pop out if she needs healing or backup. Also, Cagna, put up party whisper before you go, please.”
“Will do.”
“Everyone else, we're going to go defend the ship. Strike over that ridge, it'll protect us from stray cannon shot unless they elevate. Wizaard, you're tag-teaming with me on muscle.”
Bastien smacked a fist into a palm. “Ooooohhhh yeahhhhh! I can do muscle!”
“Zuula, fight as you can, do crowd control with vines, and heal.”
Zuula grinned wide. “So typical shaman shit. She can do dat.”
“Kayin, you're on reserve. Go quiet, pick off outliers if you can do so without risk, and cover our southern flank. Whisper if trouble comes.”
“Got it, boss!” The catgirl bounded off, pulling a cloak around her and fading from view as she went.
“Madeline, you're our ace in the hole if the pirates decide to turn on us or kill us. Light them up. Until then, stay here and be in reserve.”
“Gaht it! Good luck, Celia.”
“Let me lead the way,” she said. “And let's go save that ship!”
And one by one she invoked her Steam Knight's activation skills. The last time she'd done this she had been pissed beyond belief, so angry and frustrated she'd belted them out with fury. But now she sang them with hope. Now she knew this was the way, this was what she needed to be doing. Yes, the plan had changed and it was frustrating, but everyone was on the same page for once.
Besides, there was a viable target for ALL of her frustration, just right over THERE.
And that ridge looked like a pretty good ramp, now that she thought about it...
“Wind's Whisper Stormanorm. We're allies. Fire on us and Anne will kill you.”
Then she screamed “Boosters!” and felt the frame of her mecha shudder, as two ports opened on its back and blasted her forward on twin pillars of flame. Forward and up, as she let her feet graze the surface of the ridge and guide her into a high jump, shooting up into the smoke...
...and down to fall like the fist of an angry god onto some very surprised ground bees.
Their surprise didn't last long, and she rose from her three point-landing in a haze of red numbers, drawing forth her wrecker blade and leveling the repeater cannon that was her mecha's left arm with the other.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice amplified through her armor's vox. “But you are all fumped.”
As battle cries went it wasn't impressive. But the bees cared not, as several dozen insects the size of hounds turned from their swarming advance, and leaped at her, twisting to bring their stingers to bear.
The first one ate her blade and died.
Letting his corpse pull it to the ground she locked her cannon over her forearm and fired, grapeshot shredding the next three.
Then the four after that struck her, and she staggered as the round, heavy bumbling bodies slammed into Kindness, but the gyros held firm and she braced as stingers rattled against her hull.
Nothing. No serious damage, she judged.
One probed at the viewing slit, and she smacked the bee away with her cannon, pulled her blade free, and got to hewing.
“Up top!” shouted Bastien, and she started to bring the blade up, thinking it a warning...
...then remembered that this was a code, that they'd discussed this, and she froze.
Two booted feet landed on her mecha's helm, and the Muscle Wizaard boomed “Off the Top Rope!” and launched himself into the next wave, crashing bodily down. Red numbers rose, and not all were from the enemy. And the bees that hadn't been crushed scattered to the sides, and started fighting back. For a second she debated going to help him.
“Call Vines, Call Thorns!” shouted Zuula, and a surging carpet of vegetation cut off the swarming reinforcements. “And oh yeah, Fast Regeneration!”
Bastien straightened up, pulled a stinger out of his chest as the wound sealed, and started beating the nearest bees to death with it. All while keeping a chokehold on a larger one that was very, very confused with the whole situation.
Celia judged he had matters under control, and stomped forward, reloading her cannon and scything down the bees trapped in the vines with bursts of grapeshot. More and more of the swarm drew her way, and more and more of them fell. The bees brought poison skills to bear against her, and it did nothing to her armor. They tried to knock her over, but Kindness was too squat and low to the ground, and had strength proportional to a bigger Steam Knight, so it went nowhere. They tried to surround her and attack relentlessly, but her metal shell was just too tough, and all Celia had to do was throw the occasional Mend in between swordstrokes.
Bastien covered her flank, Zuula healed and worked crowd control, and presumably Kayin did what Kayin did because the swarm stayed off her flank.
But there were just so many of them.
And as her sanity ebbed from throwing mends, just as she was starting to get worried, the message she had been waiting for came.
Cagna: We're on the ship, everyone's safe. Get on and we'll leave!
Celia: You heard her, everyone on the ship! Madeline, make yourself known but don't approach yet.
A dragon's roar in the distance told her that her order had been obeyed.
Celia fought her way to the Wizaard, hacking down bees as she went, bulling through clusters until she'd gotten to him. Vines wrapped the path behind them as they fled together, and Celia could only trust that Kayin and Zuula were following.
“Boosters!” she screamed and grabbed the Wizaard as she crested the last ridge, shooting up in the air and carrying them both down to land on the deck... this time a bit more gently than the last landing. Though she was certain the wood was a bit scorched, that wasn't her problem right now.
No, her problem was at the wheel, barking orders as the engines thrummed to life. Her problem leveled tired eyes on her armor's viewing slit and froze mid-sentence.
And though Celia didn't know it and wouldn't find out until later, for the second time this day, Anne Bunny was rendered speechless.
“Take off, get us out of here,” Celia told her, her voice amplification doing nothing to hide a small bit of smugness. “And once we're safely away you can try to give me some really, really good reasons why I shouldn't piledrive you into the earth from two miles up.”