Fiction: Death on Dark Wings pt7

Passing down another set of stairs, they entered what had likely been The
Fate's arboretum, large crystal walls running all the way around the eight
pointed star-shaped room, almost 15 feet high.  Several stumps of what may
have been large fruit trees remained in very torn and abused soil, likely
more food for the marauders.  On large section of the crystal was cracked,
Durren explaining the scorch marks as a lightning bolt, but the spiral
staircase in the middle of the room was relatively untouched.  Marauders had
no intelligence, that had been established long ago shortly after their
creation, but they had the instincts of a dragon, and knew that leaving the
stairs alone would lead people further below.  Lekahn signaled to Gahn that
they were likely on the deck below, possibly clinging to the room where the
gravity plane would now lie.  A large piece of ballast had broken away from
the bottom of the armada, and whereas the split in the ships gravity, where
down became up and vice versa, would have been several decks lower, it was
probably the next deck now.



Rolling up onto the next deck, the archmagi still standing on the other side
of the gravity plane, upside down to them now, the two froze, weapons at the
ready, expecting a fight.  If the marauders had set a trap, there would
likely only be three at most, they typically ate each other until the
numbers were as low as that, small enough to be inconspicuous, but large
enough to attack and survive.  There was no activity, however, and Durren
stepped through a dimension door spell (another waste of magic!) and now
stood the 'right' way up.  He made his way around the room, much smaller in
comparison to the one above it, walking on what was meant to be the ceiling.
This deck was much smaller, possibly only one quarter the diameter of the
deck now below them, and had the same crystalline windows as the arboretum.
Instead of the remains of trees and flowers, however, this room held a bar
of sorts in one corner, and likely served the officers as their lounge in
off-duty time.  Elves had a nasty habit of putting themselves above others,
including their own kind, and it was likely no one but officers and
dignitaries had ever stepped foot into the room until this point.



Except for the witchlight marauders, who were clearly not here.



While the 'roof' of the room was fairly much designated, the elves had
prepared for the worst for a change, and the staircase here was double
sided, for such a gravitational emergency.  Ascending further, Gahn in the
lead, the three scro came up onto another deck, this time a grand hallway
separating two halves of a deck a little bigger than the arboretum.  From
the size of the corridors and rooms, one side was obviously crews quarters,
galley, and mess hall, while the other seemed to be officers quarters and
storage.  Within several minutes Lekahn had led his companions throughout
the entire deck, encountering three stairwells further up, and eight weapons
platforms, each set into one of the eight points of the star.  Three
ballistae and three catapults were in various states of dismemberment, as
was one of those other new weapons - speed cannons or some such, the
translation had given.  One of the strange mechanisms that fired ceramic
plates, sped through magic not unlike an accelerator, still had its gunner
slumped over it, his face drawn, and armor in tact.  If there were marauders
here, maybe they had simply skipped him, or perhaps had become preoccupied
with self annihilation before they noticed he was here - obviously he had
died of starvation.



Lekahn would have preffered a death in space, than starvation.  In place of
the gunner, who had a mana crystal attatched to a leather thong around his
neck, the scro Captain would have leapt from the alcove, attempting to reach
the gravity plane and escape, or drift out into space to suffocate faster
than starve.  At least that way, ones enemies gained no information from
ones death, but this elf had showed no such wisdom, no such thought.
Imperial Navy indeed, more like a loose bunch of far too many chaotic scum
elves.



The weapon, upon inspection by Durren, was salvageable, and Lekahn left a
small red flag pinned to the door to catch the attention of anyone on
salvage duty, and then pulled it closed as he found it.  There was point to
coming back for the gun, from the archmagis words of their power, they could
melt a hole straight through a mantis' armour - something they would do
twice if not three times as easily upon the starfly plants the elves made
their ships from.  The mount the weapon was held in, as well, was
intriguing - it was a large group of concentric iron bands, allowing it to
rotate in several different angles.  Likely it normally did it by magic, but
in this instance the gravity change had caused it to move.



Checking a couple of final spots on the deck, the three came into the
officers mess hall, tables and chairs strewn about what should have been the
roof, and spotted another exit downwards.  Unlike the previous three, which
had been blocked either by furniture or great damage to the armada, this was
cleared, and obviously the last way to continue.  By the looks of the
strange wheel contraption in the wall this was the point where the gravity
was meant to change, many humans and elves could not bring themselves to
swing up on the ram rings like normal spacefarers, and so had created large
wooden wheels that they could rotate through the gravity plane upon.  Now
the wheel stood still, its wood cracked and charred in spots, a railing
around the stairwell, hanging from what to Lekahn's perspective was the
roof, provided an ascending passage to the next deck.



As Lekahn was about to ascend, he heard a noise behind him.  Spinning, his
longsword up in an instant, he barely blocked the arm blade of a marauder as
it leaped at him.  The thing was as wide as an ogre, but only as tall as the
scro himself, and had no head to speak of.  A carapace covered its body,
obviously thick from the few cuts and chunks taken out of it, and from this
carapace, at the end of each of its arms, protruded three foot long bone
blades, looking as sharp as any steel Lekahn had ever wielded.  Within
seconds another dropped from the room above, sending the captain sprawling
through debris, and a third leaped out of a cupboard and landed on top Gahn.
Durren's mana crystal flashed brightly as the arcane syllables flowed from
his muzzle, and a barrage of magic missiles stung into the carapace of Gahn'
s attacker, barely distracting it.



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