is strange. Consciously you cannot tell what is happening on your ship. Your eyesight, hearing, and feeling are all concentrated on survival. Instinct is driving you. Yet, you know where you are to the plank of wood on your ship. You know that you are next to the main mast at one moment and near the bow of the ship the next.

And as you pass by your crew, they always take a pot-shot on the cultists following you. It seems to help, as the furious storm of your ship's deck seems to decline somewhat. At this point, you are too focused on the assault4dF+2 was rolled to get 3 ([0, 1, 0, 0] + 2) to know how Gellya is handling the ship, or how close you are to supposed freedom.

Everything Drallic could do was keep following his instincts and his training as a harrier. He had enough of his senses to remember the basics: keep moving, keep evading, always believe that you are being attacked, and don't hesitate. In a sense, this was something he shared with El'lans; never hesitate and trust in your decisions. It's not an exaggeration to say that this train of thought had saved their lives on more than one occasion. And with time mattering so little, Drallic's instincts and his crew were all that he can trust. And the bolts and bullets that barely missed him indicate that his instincts were working, for now.

One of his instincts was to never run back the way he came, which was fitting, given he'd been chased by cultists. But one too many steps in one direction sends him to the bow of the ship, with nowhere else for solid ground except for the thin round pole pointing outwards. He felt his large heart pumping quickly and harshly as he realized he was out of space to move. Without anywhere to go, he turned around, carefully leaped4dF+3 was rolled to get 6 ([1, 0, 1, 1] + 3) with a high jump and landed his shoe-covered hoof on the large, thrusting greatsword of a cultist. With another, immediate leap, the minotaur hopped over the other cultists chasing him, hoping that his sudden turn would result in them being disoriented in their chase.

You are very deft and nimble, despite your massive size. The problem is that, at this point, you are trying to move past cultists of air on a ship that is flying through the air as fast as it can and rotated in unnatural angles. Despite you being upright as you move through the cultists, the ship is at a different angle, which is worrisome as the cultists attack as you pass4dF+2 was rolled to get 0 ([-1, -1, 0, 0] + 2). If any of them hit and you fall, there may no longer be a save place to land.

While large, Drallic was also maneuverable in the air. He turned his body as he leaped, keeping his shoulders forward and behind instead of side-by-side, as he narrowly slipped through the various blades and swipes of air brought at him by the cultists. As far as harriers go, Drallic's Aerial Agility was far better than what one expected of him. It was, again, exhilarating, like he could slip through anything.

He was not, however, a daredevil when his life, and that of his crew, are on the line like this. Rather than push himself, when he was already making great, terrifying leaps, the minotaur grabbed onto the part-angled mast and used it to steady his momentum, swinging his hooves up onto it again before running down it to get back on the deck. "Jus' a lil' longer!" he shouted to the crew among the shanties and fighting, doing his best to boisterously4dF+3 was rolled to get 2 ([-1, 0, 0, 0] + 3) rally them against the air cultists until they finally got back with the fleet.

It is hard to get your voice out in normal combat. In the physics defying, chaotic mess that you are currently in, it is near impossible. However, your crew does keep fighting, you just feel that they were not as inspired as you had wished.

Which is a problem that quickly flies from your mind as the cultists keep following you, unimpeded by anything, quickly gaining on you to continue their assault4dF+2 was rolled to get 2 ([-1, 0, 1, 0] + 2).

There were often times where Drallic felt like a drop of water in an ocean, which wasn't wrong; his ship was literally a speck in the sky. But there were often times where he felt loose and lacking control on his own ship from time to time.

This was one of those times, seeing his crew failing to hear him in midst of a crazed battle. He'd have thought over how and why, if he wasn't so busy.

With the cultists caught up, Drallic weaved and ducked through and around the cultists who charged at him before dodging left and planting his hooves on the ship's rail. His eye looked down at a large and loosely-nailed plank next to him, a byproduct of rushed maintenance since their last adventure.

Acting quickly, the minotaur grabbed it and tears the heavy wooden plank off with his heavy muscles. As the cultists approached again, he swung4dF+3 was rolled to get 1 ([-1, 0, 0, -1] + 3) it with great speed, slamming it into his foes to disrupt their momentum and smash them off the ship!

While you could feel the plank crash into a few of the cultists, it was not really enough to do much more than inconvenience them. But, before they could counter-attack, you hear a massive concussive blast from off the ship. Numerous shadows fly by the ship, quickly moving out of view, none of whatever was casting those shadows hitting the ship itself.

However, the battle on the deck of your ship halts for a moment as everyone looks toward the source of the objects. You see that Gellya had managed to get your ship close enough that the mass of ships from Argenta were able to provide assistance. That assistance being a very clear warning: Leave, or be destroyed.

Before you could realize what was going on, the cultists swarming your ship immediately start fleeing.

Drallic had ducked upon feeling the concussive blast impact his nearby vicinity. While sudden and frightening, he'd trained his instinct to seek cover, or just duck, in light of any sudden threat. But when he looked up, the cultists began fleeing.

They made it out.

The minotaur gave a heaving sigh, clutching the orb closely to his chest. He couldn't fathom how and why they went SO far for one thing. His snout huffed out steam, waved to Gellya over her excellent piloting, as he checked over his wounds and walked over to El'lans. "I sure owe ye an' everyone else an explanation, if I had one." He showed the reborn the orb again. "Cultists don't jus' siege a city for one thing unless it was real damn important." He looked out in the distance at the mass of ships from Argenta. "Ye bet they'll actually explain the damn thing?"

El'lans gives you a good second or two of a stare before he shrugs, "They owe us for getting the damn thing. But I wouldn't trust that they give us everything, if anything." He suddenly turns toward the side of the ship and his eyes narrow, "Eyes up."

When you look over, you can see one of the ships of Argenta pulling up toward your portside. One of the crew of the ship is waving a boarding flag, asking permission to board your ship, and next to them is a woman wearing the clear uniform of a Captain. Her large round ears shoot up from her white and grey fur, her bright green eyes, though tiny, pierce into your soul as she waits for the response.

"Might as well talk. We have what they want."

There was a painful beat in Drallic's chest as he saw the Argenta ship pulled up next to his. While the cultists were an existential threat to him, this didn't mean that Argenta couldn't threaten him as well. They had a secret which he stumbled on, that the cultist sieged a city just to grab. And it was doubtful that Argenta didn't know what the cultists were after and why so many targeted his ship. They might want an explanation, or something more, for all this.

Then it occurred to Drallic that he currently had no reason to fear what's possible compared to what will happen. There was plenty of the former and little of the latter. In hindsight, Drallic really was jealous of El'lans and his skill to just take things in stride.

"'Right. Everyone, get th' planks an' let 'em board." He commanded, helping the crew pull up the heavy, thick, and wide boards to connect with the Argenta ship.

He gave the Captain, should she board, some room to head on his ship. "Cap'n," he began. "Thank ye for t' help. An' I'm 'fraid we both have some questions to ask an answer, aye?" He'd wait, giving her a chance to respond. She must be as on edge as he is after all that's happened; he'd expect nothing but a cold response from her.

While your crew gets the boards set up, there is a silence that nearly chills your bones. Looking around, you can see that the other airships are surrounding yours and the captains, with weapons clearly pointed right at your sails, turnsails, and hull where they suspect your main Wells are. It is clear that they are ready to send you to the ocean beneath if things do not go the way they wish.

Your eyes tear away from them as the last plank is hefted into place. In your peripheral vision, you can see El'lans still looking around, "They are not messing around, are they?"

You don't get to answer before the captain hop-steps onto your deck. Her gait is strange due to her foot-shape and size, but she somehow makes it regal and formal. When she speaks, her voice carries farther than her lithe form would suggest, and it is in a formal but rushed cadence, "Aye, we do. But I must say, I think it is Argenta who owes you thanks." Her head moves across the deck of your ship, and it is hard not to find the slight bounce and sway of her ears cute, "I have never seen a captain act so aggressively and recklessly," you hear a small snort from El'lans next to you, "but, it certainly somehow paid off." When her scan finishes, she turns to you, "You have it, aye?"

Having risked life and limb, over and over again, one would think that having his ship surrounded for a simple negotiation would be a relative relief. Instead, the minotaur found his large furred, injured legs briefly shaking as the captain climbed on. There was an easy sense that he had himself, and the rest of his crew, at gunpoint after all's said and done.

Or, perhaps, he was still feeling the horror he put himself through and he saw this with an all-too-cynical lens.

Not one to argue, certainly with how things were, Drallic slowly reached out his hands, placing one over the other. He opened his bottom one, revealing the orb in it, just to let the captain confirm it, before closing it again. "Ain't got it 'jus cause I wanted to. They went fer this an' this alone, an' they don't raid a city 'less they really need it."

The minotaur's expression was a tense frown, but it began to ease up; something about talking with someone else helped ease him, realizing that the danger had passed. "Whatever this be worth, it ain't something I'd pilfer; they'll come back fer it, wherever it is. An' ye'd likely secure it better than a merchant ship. But I'd jus' like to know what it is, an' why a damn siege of cultists hit Argenta fer it."

There is a moment where you wonder if the Bunnyborne captain heard you. She does not react as you reveal the orb, and reacts even less as you close your hand back up. There is a good minute long silence before she straightens her back a bit and her eyes dart back to look up at yours.

"I could not tell you what the orb is, even if I wanted to." Her head turns to look at the retreating cultists, barely dots on the horizon now, "Just some speculation. And if I am right, they will certainly be back. Have you heard of the Elemental Lords?"

El'lans nods, "Yeah. I don't know of a person who hasn't. Powerful spirits that have been locked up for hundreds of years. Their cultists, like them," his head nods toward the retreating force, "are trying to unlock them and bring them back."

The captain seems impressed with El'lans' knowledge. But, when she looks toward his eidolon and its mark, she nods, "Yes. My suspicion is that the orb is an object that will help open that 'lock.'"

Drallic kept his frown while listening to the captain. This was one of his earliest suspicions about the orb. "This thing's got a lot o' power in it," he remarked, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of airy might within his hand. He could only imagine what someone could do with it, if its power could be manipulated. Perhaps it was best that Drallic didn't have a clue. "If it ain't a key, it's sure somethin' that'll get 'em it. Yer lucky Chopper's good a shot as he is." He nods over to the goblin crewmate as the minotaur continued to eases up. At least now the minotaur felt like recovering a bit of status over his prior, reckless actions.

"Ye got a better way t' hide this?" He gave the captain a quizzed look. "Argenta didn't stand a chance first time they sieged it. Y'know how ye can keep this happenin' again?" He was still of the mind that a merchant ship was not the place to store an artifact deathly desired by cultists. But there wasn't a good choice between that and the state Argenta was in. Did the captain have a plan to prevent another, future siege?

The captain gives you a side-eye, "And you think that we should trust it to a band of mercenaries?" She shakes her head, "No. No matter how skilled you are, there is no way it would be trusted to you." There is a thought that you can see flash by her eyes, "It will need to be taken to Bastion while Argenta is repaired. As usual, while repairs are being made, Argenta's defenses will increase and be ready for the orb's return. I don't know why it must be kept here, but it has been here for centuries. It will not