Airships Over Aranor 9

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Conall has only shot a couple of bolts from one of his metal crossbows, the left one, and has since placed that one back in its holster. After the first intruder passed out from the shock of a shot to the knee, the other one, a merman wielding a scythe of all things, managed to dodge Conall's shot. Preferring to preserve ammo, the captain then led the pirate on a wild chase around the ship until they got to a smaller hallway where the use of the latter's weapon is rather limited. (Merfolk, it should be noted, are quite capable of shifting their lower bodies between fish and human appearance; there are a few subtle differences that mark them as not human even in 'human' form, however.) Now Conall is busy throwing fireballs in his opponent's general direction, forcing him on the defensive; fortunately, this particular hallway doesn't have much wood in it.

The merman drops the scythe and, still dodging the projectiles, begins condensing and gathering moisture from the air, storing it in front of each of his hands. After he has a fairly sizable amount, he combines the two globes of water and reshapes them quickly into a long, continous shape: A whip of water, held solid enough by magic to do damage, but easily dispersed should someone else try to take hold of it. It was around the time the whip finished forming that the Fylenis contacted Conall.

Now, if he were so inclined, would be the time for the captain to smirk and laugh. Instead he simply, calmly stops throwing fireballs and casts a different spell. This one is similar to the one we saw shortly before discovering his name, but rather than simply surrounding his hands with fire, it surrounds his whole body with it. Immolation, it is called. And then he charges forward, the end of the merman's whip evaporating with every attempt to hit him, and finally channels all that momentum into a burning punch straight to the merman's gut. Predictably, merfolk don't get along well with fire or excessive heat, so he develops a rather severe burn in the location and, though he manages to stay standing, is now holding his gut in pain. Conall turns off the immolation spell (that's what it's called), and smacks the merman on the head with the back end of a rapidly-drawn metal crossbow.

It isn't quite enough. The merman grunts, then roars and jumps at Conall, who just barely manages to dodge in time. He lands near the scythe, rolls and picks up the weapon, and by the looks of things is about to do something drastic when a fair-size rock hits the back of his head, knocking him out and landing him straight forward on the floor. Edward, in the bridge on the other end of the hallway, turns back to the ship controls. "My thanks."
"No need. Let me know when it's time."

Meanwhile, Ann doesn't find anyone on the Gran Daora. She wanders through a number of holds and few rather cramped crew's quarters, clearly only big enough for one person but outfitted with beds for eight, but doesn't find anyone. So she eventually locates the engine room, where one engine is connected to eight pipes each leading out to one of the spider's legs. One wall has a painting of Verra hung on it, no artist signature. Whys. No one's here. Found the engine room.
Hmm..judging by what you're seeing, and the way you're facing, I'd say the front is the side with the painting on the wall. While our ships are attached, we need their propulsion along with ours to keep us afloat...but it wouldn't be a bad idea to prevent them from blowing fire into the Farran if they get desperate.
Smash it?
Yes. Smash it. Then continue toward the front end, see if you can find their helmsman.
Ann proceeds to smash the connections to the front four legs of the spider using her axe. The engine isn't actively spewing flame from those outputs right now, since people had to walk through them, but if it ever does it will do severe damage to the entire engine room, instead of the Farran as it would usually be. Then she leaves the engine room and heads toward the bridge.

I'm all done here. How is Xach on his end?
He's through. Verra's almost where you are.
Tell him to come this way, ready for a fight, if he is able. You are close as well, I assume?
Naturally. Also, Ann hasn't found anyone and has smashed half the engine connections on their ship.
Excellent. Hope she can handle the infamous first mate. If we can manage this feat it will more than pay for the damage done here.

Before we continue, I should probably explain Aranoran magic properly. All forms of magic, obviously, require both the fuel (that which dragons emit), and the exercise of will and physical exertion to shape the fuel into the desired results. Skillful or powerful use of magic is just as tiring, if not more than, hard physical exercise. The magic that elves, eagle folk, merfolk, and even some humans use is called 'elfin' magic, because elves are the most talented at using it. It involves direct, free manipulation of a single element at a time, though someone who's good enough at it can use multiple elements at once. The races other than elves tend to use an element that 'gets along well' with them, such as eagle folk and wind, merfolk and water, etc. Verra used elfin magic (as she is some part elf) in making lots of ice and throwing it at Whys. Fylenis, as you know already, have their own brand of mental magic. They cannot use any other magic, and nobody else can use their magic. Neshoban magic is more concentrated than elfin magic, with a single Neshobe (depending on which of the six kinds (known commonly as 'Clans') he or she is) having only one to three spells, all of the same element unless he or she has a mixed heritage. Ekim magic is all originated from their soul-weapons, and orcs channel magic through any weapon they hold. Dwarves channel magic into objects, be they anything from weapons or airship engines, and the nature of the enchantment used determines who can use this imbued item and how.

Humans are different from most of Aranor's races. There is no unique human magic, and while possible, it is very difficult for humans to learn elfin magic. However, humans have an unusual ability to absorb magic, like sponges, ever growing in the capacity of magical energy their bodies can hold and even passing especially high levels down to their children. They are able to expend all of their magic at once in one great burst, to a few different and incredible ends, but once it's used it can take several lifetimes to build up as much again. Not all humans, however, are so limited.
A very long time ago, using magics long since forgotten, the Neshoba and elves worked together to grant six humans an unusual ability. Each of them was given the power to copy the spells of a single Clan of Neshoba, and use them him- or herself. All that is needed is the knowledge that the spell exists, and a working understanding of what it does. These six humans' descendents possess the exact same ability, completely intact since it isn't precisely genetic. The original six, and their descendents, are collectively referred to as 'Dragoons', because the original intended purpose of their powers was to gain the edge in a desperate battle against dragons. The line of one particular dragoon is royalty in the country of Rithara, and has survived as a very, very long series of dynasties since the country's creation. The others are sometimes considered a kind of nobility, but it really depends on who you ask.

Conall is a descendant of the one who was blessed by the Red Claw Clan, and as such can use such spells. He also benefits from an unusually high store of magic, since the non-dragoon side of his heritage consists of a very long line of humans who never spent their collected magic. As such he has some overflow issues as observed before--unconsciously casting spells and the like--but when he can use lots of fire, it's generally there for him.

Now that that's out of the way, Verra reaches a hallway not far from the bridge (though not the one directly in front of the bridge) with Conall in it. Her eye is still glowing, so she can tell it's both the real him and really him. The unconscious merman was hastily hidden in a nearby storeroom as a precaution, even though all accounts of her puppetry power indicate that one must be conscious at its inception or it won't work. By now he's leaning against a wall, as if relaxed, with one of the M-C's in his right hand. His right hand is immolated again, but fortunately the weapon is small enough that the fire just goes around it, treating it as 'part' of the hand. "So glad you could make it." She replies by firing a lightning bolt in his general direction, which he dodges under. You have my full permission. This may be the only chance we get at something like this. "Hmm. You know, that must put quite a strain on your arm. I can't imagine it's easy to aim while fighting through pain." He raises his gun, while Verra briefly falters in another attempt to draw back the bow (due to the very pain mentioned). I hope you've got it by now, Whys. "What was the plan here anyway?" Then, he takes a shot.

In a flash, Verra's weapon has returned to sword form and is sparking with energy, directed to repel the bullet away from its location, and held up in front of her face. It isn't quite fast enough, and for some reason magnetism doesn't effect the bolt. It ricochets off of the blade's edge and grazes the left side of her face, just barely missing the eye but coming close enough that she has to close it in pain. When the bolt hits the wall and clatters to the floor, it becomes evident that it was also on fire. "You know, funny thing, I was conversing with a blacksmith the other day and he said, it's an awful waste to use iron in these bolts when anything small and round, like a piece of wood, would do just as well."

The pirate doesn't answer. Not in words. Instead, she makes a sound somewhere between a roar and a howl and charges at him, sword blazing. Conall blocks with both crossbows (the other one was quick-drawn, and looks away, staring at a nearby wall.
"What's the matter?!" She disengages, steps back and forward again, and aims another slice in the space of about half a second. Long enough to pause for breath between questions. "Ceightn't even look your opponent in the feightce?"
"Oh I can, I just don't want to. Too bright with all the lightning and fire." Conall steps back at the same time Verra does this time, and takes another shot in her direction. This time she manages to block it, and takes advantage of the way Conall had to point his face for aiming to look him in the eyes. And...nothing happens. Verra appears to be in shock for a few seconds. Conall gets an unnatural--and somewhat disturbing given his usual disposition--toothy smile for almost as long. "What, were you expecting something? Two can play at that game, Daora-majou."
"RRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaghhhhhh!!!!!!!" Then the entire hallway is full of electricity. Verra starts hacking at Conall, who is now quite unnaturally laughing through the mild pain of such an unfocused shock while dodging and blocking the series of blows.

Meanwhile, Ann finds the bridge. It's just as unguarded as everywhere else, and no traps set, either. She walks into the room and looks around, and finds nobody but Callor. He hears her, of course. "Thtep no clother." It's hard to sound threatening with a sever lisp, but he somehow sounds serious at least.
"Or what."
"Thith thhip'th engineth are keeping both of uth in the air. Thethe controlth are too complekth for you to even begin to fathom, and too thmall for your hands to control, judging by your weight. And if you think it'th thtill worth the rithk..think again."
"I can fly."
"Maybe. But you can't dodge ekthplothionth. Nobody hath ever theen nor heard of my thpell, becauthe it would be too great a rithk on an airthip over the othean. But if you get too clothe, I might jutht dethide to uthe it anyway, and take you down with me. Don't think I won't do it."

The electricity and Verra finally stop, the latter panting heavily and clearly on the brink of exhaustion. Conall is much the worse for wear, with scorched clothes and minor burns all over his body, but not a single cut from the blade thanks to the Fylenis' expert control of the situation. "What'd I say, eh? Too easy. Especially if I don't have to feel the pain."
She's on the ropes, Edward. Disengage the other airship, Ann should be able to get back now that I've opened up the hangar.
"Hhh...hh.."
"What? I can't hear you."

"I hate you! ALL of you! I swear I am going to track every one of you down and tear your hearts out and eight them. If I have to keightll myself to finish you off I swear I'll do it. If I find any family or friends of yours I will personally tear them limb from limb. I--aagh!" She yells not out of frustration or rage, but from the pain of a rather deep set of cuts across her back. These are courtesy of the Shadow Fang, his claws now out. She whirls around and slashes at him with more ferocity and energy than someone who's just spent five or six minutes on a sustained electrified hallway should rightly have. He dodges, but barely. Conall takes a shot from behind, aimed at the back of her head and on his own control this time, and somehow she happens to duck under it at the last possible instant by performing a lunging attack. Xachariah is already low to the ground, having been warned of the attack by the Fylenis. Conall lines up another shot.

The Luck spell is one of quite dubious results, like most Shadow Fang spells. However, its effects seem so much like coincidence that there are doubts as to its actual existence. Most people in recorded history who have used it have died horribly in what seemed to be complete accidents. Very unfortunate deaths most often result, and not necessarily just those of the casters, but sometimes of their close friends or loved ones, or just random people who were nearby at the time of casting as well. Neshoba who are discovered by a Choneiji to have the spell are warned specifically against ever casting it, and the ones who have followed this wisdom have generally lived longer for it. Shadow Fang dragoons dread the spell and try not to even think about it for fear of using it by accident.

Not Verra. Verra is one of two or three people in all of Aranoran history to have used the Luck spell and gotten a good result. She is quite literally the only one to use it habitually and get good or, at worst, neutral results every single time. The point is, once she had calmed down enough to start screaming revenge at Conall and Whyskars-in-Conall, she cast the Luck spell. And, perhaps what follows may be considered the result. It certainly seems enough like a coincidence, anyway.

On the Gran Daora, the eagle woman takes Callor's threat seriously. It isn't unbelievable that a part-Red Claw would have the power to blow things up, in some kind of fiery explosion. However, she doesn't take him quite seriously enough. She tries to charge at him, get him before he can react. While she is more agile than anyone with her choice of a giant axe as a weapon would seem to have any right to be, speed is not her specialty. There is enough time, between the decision to attack and the sounds of her starting to run, for the Neshobe to turn around in his chair, sigh mentally at what fools everyone on Aranor is, and then cast his spell. As a result, a chain of explosions fire straight through Callor's line of sight, extending some twenty yards or so in distance. His line of sight also just happened to be inclined slightly downward. The impacts catch Ann straight in the front--though she does have the presence of mind to hold the axe flat in front of her and thus block some of the damage--and propel her with them straight through the floor of the Daora's bridge, through the ceiling of the Farran, and nearly out the latter's floor. She crashes straight into Xach, and they both get knocked through the end of the hallway, just barely avoiding falling through the new hole, through which the chain of explosions continue to go.

The noise and shock of the explosion rocks the entire ship, knocking Conall to the ground. Verra is somehow still standing up, and she grins the most vicious, hateful grin that has ever been grinned, due in part to effect of baring her sharp teeth and in part to the gleam in the one of her catlike eyes that's still open, and then jumps onto the roof of the Farran, and from there back into the bridge. Callor is out cold from the exertion of casting his Explosive Sight spell, and Verra shoves his unconscious body out of the way and takes the controls of the ship. The Farran rocks back and forth at that moment (thanks to Edward's efforts), knocking the front four legs out of the holes they made. Verra isn't as good at piloting the ship as Callor, but she's the one who built it, and she only needs to work the back four to propel the Gran Daora off at an angle to the right of the other ship's course. Said other ship had accelerated in preparation for the shaking maneuver, and their courses diverge rather quickly. Anyway, their crew are much too busy with other concerns to give chase.

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From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose