Fiction: Death on Dark Wings pt6

Lekahn watched as his sergeants, one forward to his right, the other in a
similar position on the left, signalled back their wish to approach.  He
nodded to his pilot, Corporal Bagsh, who signalled back with the basic hand
code they had improvised months earlier.  Lekahn, not unlike Korgesh in many
ways, preferred not to pilot the wyvern himself.  Korgesh had not touched
the wheel of a ship other than his boarding boat for several years now,
planetside or not, and Lekahn missed the days of sailing during their
academy years.  It would be breathtaking to fly, one each upon a wyvern, out
here with his Admiral and fellow Captains, but he knew that with rising rank
came the loss of the simple pleasures, such as piloting duty, or even the
cooking of meals.



            Of course, it was different if one was cooking an elf.



            The two wyverns ahead slowly rotated to match the armada, which
was moving very little in of itself.  The other two, at orders relayed again
through Bagsh, took up orbiting positions.  Their warpriests each removed a
spyglass and began studying the deck and body of the armada not only for
signs of the witchlight marauders, but for elves, any damage, and landing
positions.  Lekahn's wyvern, however, simply slowly cruised a tactical arm -
the term commonly used to refer to a distance of 500 yards - behind the two
sergeant's.  After the sergeants relayed the cleanliness of the air
envelope, and the all-clear came from all four scouts, Lekahn sent the order
for Sergeant Char to take a position on the lower gravity plane, orbiting
slightly outside the air envelope, while Korre was to do similar on the
upper gravity plane.  The warpriest on the back of Lekahn's wyvern, the same
archmagi he had first met but a week before, relayed a magical message from
the sixth and seventh wyvern, too far distant to be seen.  While four of the
wyverns orbited the armada, and Lekahn's own began its approach and descent,
two more kept wider orbits some four tactical arms out, just in case the fir
e planet should hold any nasty surprises.



            The freshness of the air hit Lekahn making his muzzle wrinkle in
slight disgust.  These elven ships always smelled so florally, why could the
accursed ones not be content with bushes, shrubs, or even small trees in
their space-borne gardens, insisting instead to fill them with roses, and
hajkalls, and all manner of putrid smelling plants.  Lekahn knew without a
doubt that would have to be taken care of as soon as possible, the smell
would have entrenched itself into the walls and decking of the armada, it
might take months to work out.



            "Land there Corporal, archmagi Durren and myself shall dismount
first, incase of heavy magical attacks or traps, you will stay with the
wyvern, while private Gahn will come with us.  Keep in contact with the
sergeants, and make sure you get my attention if anything happens."



            With a "Yes sir" the scro at the front of the four, seated in
the complex harness on the back of the wyvern pulled several of the reins in
the descent order.  The wyvern took a careful spiral down, its own nostrils
flaring no doubt at the smell of elven blood left by the marauders, and
carefully landed lightly upon the decking.  It never ceased to amaze Lekahn
that what had been a bunch of blundering, over-sized and clumsy bat winged
creatures was now a graceful, and more importantly, silent insertion
vehicle.  He patted the thick hided beast on the side, and leapt down, his
longsword in one hand, starwheel in the other.  Checking several nearby
doors, his movements mirrored by Private Gahn across the wyvern, he kept his
starwheel raised and ready for action until he heard Durren's feet lightly
touch the ground, the fool wasting magical energy on a levitation spell.



            Such a waste cost approximately 15 gold, in itself not an
incredible fortune, but should the other warpriests see Durren's actions
they would no doubt mirror them, and as it was the fleet's expenditure on
Mana Crystals, used to cast all magic save but that of the elves and a few
other races, was rather high of late.



            Holstering the starwheel, but keeping his longsword unsheathed,
Lekahn signaled Gahn to open one of the doors, taking the other side.  The
archmage, again likely wasting energy on what would likely be a high end
protection spell, simply stood twenty feet in front of the door, casually as
if uncaring even should a tarrasque run through.  Lekahn had always despised
warpriests, they had a tendency to loose sight of the big picture, but this
one was really starting to make his teeth itch.



            Gahn peered into the gloom inside, and then moved in, a battle
axe in his right hand, a lit torch in his left.  Following, Lekahn saw a
very trashed room, likely used for greeting dignitaries and other visitors
to the armada, chairs and tables now in pieces, several torn pieces of
chainmail (something the marauders could not digest) upon the floor.  As the
archmagi followed them in, Lekahn's suspicions were confirmed by a check if
the inside of the door - light scratch marks from light elven fingernails
painted a scene of being trapped inside in a panic, with a slavering and
hungry marauder in pursuit.  Lekahn smiled at the thought of some pathetic
elven noble or captain screaming for help, screaming in his gods' name for
the door to open, even though not a single flitter was docked on the decking
outside, and escape would still not have come.



            Passing the signal back to Bagsh that they were descending,
Lekahn took the lead, and the private's torch, and descended a short flight
of stairs.  The silver-gilded railing was twisted, and melted in places,
likely from magic thrown at pursuing marauders, while crunched and mangled
from the same beasts' bites in others.  Several doors in the large chamber
led to small rooms off to the side, likely state rooms for visitors, and
guard posts showed no signs of life but more scraps of chainmail, and the
occasional light-elven sword.  No marauder droppings were to be seen, which
Lekahn noted almost immediately, so likely they had a trap set much further
down, if they were not all dead already.



Tilaurin
tilaurin@?????????????????.com
http://www.planetbaldursgate.com/atreus/index.html
"Dying Swans/Twisted Wings,
Bring This Savage Back Home"
- Brave New World, Iron Maiden