ThatHell-BoundTrain

“Huttner, Ezzy, Hugo. Get to the locomotive and keep this dragon chuggin’. If we stop, we’re dead. ‘Lex, Caz. You’re with me. Let’s go play us some Galaxian.” She summons her other pistol into existence and heads toward one of the connecting carriages.

Espérance nods, already rising from the table.

[Swan] pauses to steal some breadsticks from another passenger’s table. She gives the group a rueful look, “What? Need my energy.”

Alex chuckles softly, shaking her head at her lover's comment. But she, too, snags a breadstick before heading off with Swan and Caz. For her own preparations, she digs deep into her back pack, coming up with three balls, each about half the size of her hand. A small dial can be set anywhere from 0 to 20. Cradling them in the arm holding her bag, she reaches in once more, this time pulling out a burnished silver sling shot. The corner of her mouth curves into a smile. "These should do it."

Since most of the passengers are obediently following the Klaxon call and heading in the direction of the locomotive, Alex and Swan find that they are swimming upstream against the current of people in the car, and, it emerges, people in the subsequent cars.

In short order, pushing past people allows for Swan and Alex to get into the next carriage, which turns out to be another dining car. A blue skinned, white haired woman with what look like antennae coming out of her forehead stares at Swan and Alex, shakes her head, and continues toward the second dining car past them.

"What is your plan?" Cazaril says. "Since you have seized the initiative so adroitly. Huttner gave no protest in following your decision to split the group." He pauses a beat. "Neither have I at this time." he adds.

“Well, good, ‘cause nothin’ flutters my pucker more than belly-aching in the middle of a gunfight,” Swan says, checking her rune-bullets. “First, one of us needs to need to get up top. It’s more exposed, but a 360-view is what we need right now. I’d suggest you, since you’ve got your Logrus peepers and can jaw to us from a distance. Call out the marks and we’ll pop them. That is unless you can do it from in here and I’ll go up top.

“’Lex? I want you to prime the rail connector behind us with some juice. Blow it, if we need some speed. Then get back here to help me shell out some lead. We want this car to be as popular as possible, so Ezzy and the rest don’t have to scrap it up much.”

Alex nods. "I can have it blown in 5 seconds. Just tell me when, I'll throw one of these babies," She reaches into her bag and pulls out a smaller version of the ball that she'd grabbed earlier. She holds it up between thumb and forefinger with a grin." And then I'll be back." She pauses to kiss Swan briefly on the lips before running toward the rear of the car, ready for the word.

"It would be easier for me to do it from the roof." Cazaril says. "And as you say, it would give us a better idea of the opposition. He looks around for a moment and then heads forward toward the dining car, in the direction Huttner, Hugo and Espérance headed. There is the sounds of clanging metal, and then the sounds of a commotion on the roof of the train car.

[Swan] starts throwing tables aside to gain better access to the windows.

With tables and furniture out of the way, the bank of windows is open and exposed, giving Swan a chance to see the swarm. It is growing in (apparent) size and approaching rapidly.

In the meantime, Alex finds, her excitement with the explosive has had a surprising side effect. Her skin has warmed, threatening a premature detonation of her powerful explosive as she prepares it. There is a soft sound of crackling fire in her ears, and a urge to let the fire within loose.

"Oh shit," Alex whispers under her breath. She stops everything she's doing until the only movement is slow breathing. Then she focuses herself inward.

She can feel the fire flickering through her, teasing just below her skin. The warmth that it gives radiates through her, filing her with the strength of a fire threatening to burn out of control. Mentally, she strokes it, feeling the heat but not the burn as her mental hands roam over the fire within. 'Not now,' she whispers to it. 'Now isn't the time to come out. I promise I'll let you run free soon, but let me finish this first. We need subtle timing, and we don't know each other's strengths yet. Trust me, though. I will let you out as soon as I can. And if I know Swan,' a chuckle reverberates through her mind, 'that'll mean before the end of this... whatever it is.'

Through her speech, she continues to stroke and calm the fire within, trying to draw it back from her surface to burn brightly inside instead.

Although the entire process takes only a half minute of objective time, it feels long for Alex. The fire within continually threatens to erupt, even given the silky promises she makes. Finally, though, by act of will, Alex manages to be stronger than the fire, and quells it within her.

For now.

Alex lets out a small sigh of relief. Crisis averted... for the moment.

Once she feels that she has the fire under control once more, she opens her eyes, glances back toward Swan to make sure she didn't miss anything, then continues to the back of the car, ready to drop her little bomb for speed.

And in short order she is at the back of the car,only a door away from the car connector and the location of her bomb.

Alex props open the door, ready to stick her bomb as soon as Swan gives the word.

And at that point, a mental voice comes to Swan's mind. "The swarm is covering a 40 degree angle of arc. I estimate the distance at approximately 2 kilometers, approaching the train at a speed of about 95 meters per minute. We have about 20 minutes, Swan, and they will be on top of the train.."

Swan opens the window and set a chair in front of it as a fire-platform. “You’re my spotter now, Caz,” she replies in her head. “Adjust my fire, if you can.”

The wind roars into the car, turning her hair briefly into a blonde corona before it settles down.

She sets Muggin on the chair to steady her shot, calming her breathing down. With her mage-sight, she scans the trees and foliage near the approaching swarm - studying the effects of the wind on them. The ‘sight’ also compensates for parallax problems and bullet drop; effectively making her pistol the world’s shortest sniper rifle. Unfortunately, the Pattern manipulation involved in getting a rune-bullet that far down range is a chore. The fact that she’s in a speeding train, firing at a moving target, just makes things all the more interesting.

She picks out one of the lead creatures, breaths out, and fires; Muggin roaring like a cannon.

The terrain outside, a mosaic of prairie and sedge fens, accented by scattered bur oak trees, is not entirely conductive to Swan's hopes of improving her aim. There is some foliage to do some wind-reckoning, but not much. The first shot at one of the lead metal insects is as much guesswork and intuition as science.

When the bullet roars, it lashes out, but does not appear to hit the target, or any of the approaching swarm. At least, none of them drop and there is no telltale sign or sound of it ricocheting off one of them.

The mental voice of Caz, on cue comes. " You're shooting too low and too far left. Adjust ten degrees upward and ten degrees right."

And the swarm approaches ever closer. They are starting to grow in apparent size even without the sights.

Swan follows Caz’s directions, adjusting her fire appropriately. She fires again. And again. Continuing her adjustments until she hits her mark.

The next few minutes are tense for both Alex and Swan.

With Cazaril providing continual updates on firing solutions, Swan soon starts to feel she is in a shooting gallery. Coached by those mental messages, Swan's accuracy is incredible, even by her own high standards. And, with the bullets striking squarely on the targets, the metal insects do go down again, and again and again. The staccato rhythm of the bullets being fired and the sounds of the bullets striking their targets creates a spare but powerful soundtrack for the motion of the train. Swan can get herself lost in the feel of this, as her two pistols make kill after kill on the approaching horde.

The blood-thrill is intoxicating. Swan does, indeed, lose herself in the electric tingle that sparks from nose to toes and everywhere in between. Between this and the narrow focus of the gun-sights, the rest of the world drops away around her.

It is Alex who notices the larger picture, though, unencumbered by the immediate concerns of picking off members of the attackers. The swarm is threatening to cross the tracks ahead of the train. If Alex and Swan do nothing, when the swarm arrives it will overwhelm the train from both the side and the front.

Swan remains ignorant for the moment, caught up in her bloodlust.

And her bloodlust continues to be fed. Instinct takes over from everything else. Cazaril's firing solutions soon become redundant and superfluous, so well does Swan anticipate vectors and changes in the swarm and hit targets again and again.

The guns grow warm in her hands as member after member of the swarm falls to her shots.

Unaware of Swan's altered state, Alex calls back, "They're trying to pinch us!" Balancing herself against the open door frame, she grabs one of the larger balls. With an expert eye, she gauges the distance between herself and the swam, adjusts for movement and wind, then sets the timer on her special projectile, puts it into the sling and lets it fly, heading straight for the portion of the swarm that is headed for the front of the train. She aims for the middle, where the cloud seems thickest. Her Nitro Ball should pack enough force to take out half to three quarters of the swarm, unless they are particularly well guarded against massive explosions.

Swan's reverie and her zen like approach to killing the swarm suddenly comes to a violent and unexpected end, as Alex's grenade detonates in the midst of the swarm. The blast wave rocks the train for a moment, but the train does not derail.

The carnage is incredible. If Swan is death personified on the retail level, a Siren who kills one at a time, Alex is her polar opposite. Alex is death on a wholesale level. It lacks the personal touch of Swan, whose targets can see and hear the bullet that will claim their life. Alex's methods are carnage and destruction, a force of nature that does not distinguish between friend and foe.

Hundreds of the swarm are scorched, obliterated or simply are damaged enough to fall out of her sky thanks to the blast from the powerful explosive. Alex realizes that the explosion would have been even larger (and as large as she expected) and destroy even more of the swarm than it did, but the explosive did not quite have the full explosive effect she expected.

The removal of much of the frontal lobe of the swarm has mitigated the threat to the front of the train for the moment, but it has revealed that the swarm of insects are heralds for a threat flying right behind them. They are much fewer in number and in a far more loose formation. These appear to be human-sized bipedal ants mounted on metal flying insects sized for their riders.

A second wave, and a decidedly more dangerous one is coming behind, and on the wings of the first.

Swan blinks the flash-shadows from her eyes, her ears still ringing from the explosion. She watches the creatures tumble and smoke and die by the dozens, falling on the ground like broken leaves. With her reverie abruptly ended, she stands and holsters her pistols - allowing them the opportunity to cool. Sure, she’s caught sight of the approaching bug-riders, but something far more important - something desperately vital - needs to be done first.

She grabs Alex around the waist and kisses her, hard, pushing her into one of the tables, threatening to fall upon her like a storm. She kisses her again and growls, “Baby, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. If there wasn’t more killin’ to be done…” She nips her lover’s bottom lip and purrs. It takes everything she has to pull away from Alex.

Swan's reaction takes Alex by surprise, but it doesn't take long for her to recover and kiss her lover back. "I'm glad it isn't the only thing you find sexy," she murmurs. "Because it could get more dangerous than it already is." After she gives Swan one last, hard kiss, she crouches next to her bag and starts to rummage through it.

"Caz," she calls without looking up. "That last one wasn't as powerful as I thought it would be. How is this place affecting my bombs? I've got one or two 'surprises' that are stronger than the one I threw, but I don't want to use them unless I have to."

The telepathic response reaches both Swan and Alex.

"I was afraid that the esoteric laws here were something you were unused to. You will need to reformulate your explosive now that we are approaching Chaos to get full potency. Leave your largest bombs for last, in case there are more surprises from the swarm."

"Crap," Alex whispers. "I don't have time for that now. Next batch, though..."

If Caz suggests, as she suggested, that now's not the time to use her biggest guns, she pulls out every one of the boom bombs, both large and small, to shoot at the incoming swarm.

As Swan lets the guns cool, and Alex pulls out smaller bombs to lob at the swarm, lead members of the swarm start being swept out of the sky. There is no explosion, no bullet or anything obvious, but the swarm is being carved up bit by bit as it nears the train. There are still almost too many targets for when the ladies reenter the fray, but someone, presumably Cazaril, is filling the void.

The other thing both ladies see is a brief shadow of something flying higher than the swarm, cast on the ground as it advances along, and then wheels backward to flyi back toward the front of the train.

Alex has seen children's shows, and Swan has been around enough to recognize the shadow, even if the creature itself is not visible.

Its the shadow of a pterodactyl.

“Oh this just gets better and better,” Swan mutters beginning toward the connecting car, “Caz, you’ve got a dinosaur on your six and bug-riders on your nine. I’m coming up top before they give you the once over. ‘Lex, keep working your juice magic and get ready to blow that thing when I give the signal. I’m gonna go get Lara Croft on their a$$.”

"I see both. That swarm is about to hit us. You don't want to stay up here long. Hurry."

Alex nods, blowing a kiss before Swan leaves the carriage. "Keep be posted on where they're most needed, lover," she calls, kneeling in front of the window, sling shot at the ready, taking aim with one of the larger balls toward the bug riders. She suspects that aiming at the pterodactyl won't do much damage, instead it'll just piss it off. Until she hears otherwise, she continues to shoot bomb after bomb at the swarm, adjusting her aim for the most damage each time.

And Alex has plenty of targets for her smaller ammunition. Taking position at the end of the car, she can sling bomb after bomb into the swarm, slowly depleting their numbers. There is a lot of members of the swarm, and the bombs, as Cazaril predicted, are not as effective as Alex expects.

However, they are effective. More and more of the swarm falls to the explosive ammunition. The Riders seem to be slowing up and trying to stay out of range. It becomes clear to Alex that they are attempting to let their lesser metallic brethren use up her ammunition.

"Think you're being tricky, huh?" Alex murmurs under her breath. "Not happening." She takes one of the larger boom bombs, aims for the center of the riders and lets the slingshot go with as much speed, strength and accuracy that she can muster. The little ones may be annoyances, but these guys seem to have a lot more going on tactically. So they will be her primary target.

When [Swan] reached the connecting car, she swings outside on the side away from the approaching riders and climbs up onto the roof. The wind tugs at her shirt and hair as she nimbly vaults onto the uneven rooftop. She scans the area for Caz, as well as the latest threats.

On top of the train, Swan can see that things have truly gone pear-shaped. Alex's explosive ordinance is the one bright spot. The swarm is thinning out more and more as she lays down a line of explosions. Forget Galaxian...Alex's game of choice appears to be Missile Command.

If Swan wanted to join in, she has an unrestricted field of fire for targets both large and small in the incoming swarm.

She does take the opportunity to zot a few of the bug men in the background, but she leaves most of the grunt work to Alex for now.

Toward the front of the train, Swan can see things are...odd. The pterodactyl is shape shifting, turning man-shaped as it lands on the dragon. The three other figures on the dragon, presumably Huttner, Hugo and Esperance appear to be treating with him, whoever he is.

It’s fortunate that Swan observes this benign interaction; otherwise, the last thing going through Mr. Dinosaur’s melon would have been a chunk of hot lead. She ignores them for the time being, focusing instead on more pressing matters.

The other thing Swan sees, though is that the train is rapidly heading toward a bridge over a valley. The train will be there in a couple of minutes, about the same time the swarm strikes.

Oh, and the bridge is most definitely out.

"Now you know the situation" Cazaril says, pausing from his swatting of elements of the swarm by something that makes Swan feel hinky--probably the Logrus. By the Serpent's tooth, its times like this that I wish I had a Vangrast Trump Mistress owe me a few favors."¹

There is something within Swan that whispers to her that she might be able to escape all of this. To simply phase out, with her new powers, and let the others deal with matters. Escape is hers, and only hers, if she will but use it.

In another day, another age, that is exactly what Swan would do. People were disposable. Replaceable. After all, you could walk for an hour or so and find a perfect reflection of anyone and anything. Attachments were effectively meaningless. But she could still smell Alex’s perfume on her skin. Feel the hot-ember warmth of lips lingering on her neck. Hear the echoing happy-purr in her ears. No. She loved – such an accursed word – the young woman. No denying that anymore. And she would not leave her. Or fail her. “Caz,” she says in a firm voice. “Use your mojo and warn everyone to get to the rear cars. ‘Lex can blow the train when everyone is safe. Hopefully, the breaks will kill the momentum before they’re in the drink. Now get and I’ll cover your keister.”

She opens up with both pistols; switching to rune-bullets to fill the air with clouds of wicked flechettes.

The next couple of minutes are pandemonium. Swan's clouds of ammunition take down endless numbers of small swarm members, even as the larger ones try and stay out of reach of ammunition from her, and the bombs from Alex. The latter gambit is less than successful, as Alex expends her precious, larger bombs to reach out and touch the riders. One, two, three of the riders fall because the blast radius of the larger bombs is enough to wash over them, knocking them off of their mounts, or in one case, peeling the chitin armor from its very body, caught in the flash-fire.

Cazaril is down in the main compartment (thanks to Swan giving him cover to get back down successfully) shouting telepathically. A horde of people stream past him, and then past Alex to the cars beyond. It disrupts Alex's fire, but it cannot be helped.

Two and a half minutes later, with a portly official the last of the men and women filing past Alex, the booming mental voice of Cazaril comes across to Alex and Swan.

"That's the last of them" he shouts. "Blow it!"

Bereft of the bombs for those two minutes, Swan has been the sole person on this part of the train fighting the swarm. The guns are warm, as warm as Alex's skin, by the time the swarm thins out, and Swan meets her new foe.

Two of the riders who have advanced in the absence of Alex's bombs, fly toward Swan, twin whirlwinds of flying death seeking her heart.

Swan gauges the distance between her and the next car, burning it into her memory. “Caz, get Alex to blow it. Don’t wait for me. I’ll be right as rain.“

She mutters a silent curse and begins taking shots at the advancing riders. If she hits, so be it… if not, she wants to make sure they are paying attention to her, rather than the rest of the train. She tries to lead them toward her car, waiting for Alex to detonate her explosives. Indeed, she’d prefer they were on this portion of the train when it went.

The rat-at-tat sound of Swan's guns continues the beat as the two riders close in on her. Her shots bring down one of the riders immediately. The other starts changing its approach and vector, trying to escape death by rune-empowered bullets. It also seems to be using the remainder of the small swarm to keep itself from being a target for Swan's aim.

In the meantime, in the car below, at Caz's urging, Alex detonates the explosives...

The front of the train (including the car Swan is on) lurches forward as the connection to the rest of the train, with the civilians, is severed. The front of the train separates from the rear of the train. In point of fact, the explosion was large enough that the rear of the train is actually propelling itself backward.

The forward speed of the train suddenly takes a jolt.

Swan, when she spares a glance forward, can see why. The dragon at the front of the train has been freed, and a figure on the dragon jumps off. The other two figures manage to scramble back onto the train. The dragon flies ahead and away, leaving the train without an active source of propulsion. However, its going to be awfully close whether the front of the train will slow and stop before it plunges off the broken bridge.

"We have to get off this train. Now." Cazaril sends, blanketing the local noosphere with his message. Even as Swan dodges attackers, the certainly of Cazaril's words burn like blue fire in her brain, and burn in Alex's as well.

“Then get going, damnit!” Swan yells back. Her thoughts shift to the beginning of a song - You’re My Thrill by Billie Holliday; three minutes and twenty-four seconds. It helps her gauge the passage of time and just how little she has remaining. So, even as the train draws closer to its fatal plunge, she braces herself and zeroes in on the last rider.

Risking attacks from the rest of the swarm, she waits until the final second for her chance to emerge and then takes the shot.

Metal insects swarm around her. Swan has two of the (few) small metal insects not destroyed by Alex's munitions take passes at her, proboscis and stingers raking across her, as she seeks that perfect shot. Though the pain and injury, she finally draws a bead and can fire dead-on for the chest of her target.

Before the bullet rips into its target, Swan lets her new connection to the Pattern take over - slowing time around her, phasing out of reality and into the In-Between. She turns and runs to the end of the carriage, leaping the now ‘frozen’ span between them and letting momentum and luck do the rest.

The slowness of time lets things creep forward slowly for her, heading toward the last car. Pain lances through her left arm and leg from the stings, like currents of poison.

Swan grimaces as the liquid fire spreads through her limbs. She recognizes the peril, but at the moment, she’s got bigger fish in the pan.

Alex stands at the forward edge of the cars, splitting her attention between the riders that had been harrying them and her girlfriend. She lobs more of her ammunition - which is dangerously close to all of it - toward the threat while watching Swan seem to take the time she should have been using to get off the train to wait for the perfect shot instead.

Many of the small metal insects fall under the carpet bombardment that Alex can provide. She cannot hit everyone, and a few do swarm onto the top of the carriage where Swan shoots, but the swarm is broken.

"Dammit, Swan, come ON," Alex screams. "You can hit them from over here." She readies herself to jump toward the Swan's current transportation. She didn't let Swan get away by disappearing off the pattern, she was going to be damned if she let her disappear over a cliff. She feels herself warm, the sensation not unlike standing too close to a fire with the heat waves washing over her. Something inside her warns that if she doesn't get her emotions under control, the fire within could very well be the fire without. Alex tries to pull it back, settle the heat inside of herself. But worry for Swan is too much on her mind. She won't let her go. Swan looks too far away. The cars seem too near the edge. And time seems to slow to nothing. 'I can't lose her. I won't lose her.' Taking a deep breath, she draws the heat to her center, an almost nuclear furnace of fear and worry, and then does the only thing she can think of doing. She readies herself to jump.

And jump she can. Swan lands on the last car just as Alex manages her own jump. Time is still glacially slow, preternaturally so for Swan, and only perception wise for Alex. But moments of time have saved by getting to this last car of the shortened train. Swan and Alex are standing on the front of this car, Swan on top, and Alex below her. Swan can see Alex, burning brightly with an intense heat.

However, a sudden yank of momentum from ahead tells Swan and Alex that the front of the train, only a few cars ahead, is now going over the edge of the broken bridge into the river valley below.

Swan swings down, feeling another flash of pain in her wounded arms. she manages to reappear back into reality. Her skin immediately colors from the proximity with her smexy blast-furnace of a moll. She resists the urge to hug Lady Torch. “Baby, what the hell did I tell you?!” she snaps, “You were supposed to beat feet and ditch this one-way ticket.” Despite the anger in her voice, her adoring smile betrays her true feelings.

"Not without you," Alex replies, her eyes catching Swan's and holding them for a fraction of a second. There can be no doubt - as if there was any after she took a merry trip around the pattern - that she considers her fate bound to Swan's. Her strange-talking love may try to keep Alex safe from harm, but that will only go as far as Alex will let it - and if Swan is in danger, that distance is incredibly short indeed.

Swan swings out and looks for a good place to jump – without all the breaking bones and ruptured organs. Hopefully, with a little of the old Amber luck, she picks out a soft ditch some distance from the fatal drop. It’ll be a last second deal… but that comes with the territory.

"Can you jump and roll?" Alex asks, also watching for the safest place to try to land. "Aim to hit sideways and roll with it rather than feet first. I think that will be safer for us than anything else." She puts her fire-warm hand in Swan's and squeezes lightly. As they ready themselves to jump, words unnecessary as their small movements tell the other that which she has planned, Alex tries to dampen the flame within her by a small amount. She fears that if she were to jump with the heat from her body now, she'd lose any cushion the snow might give her and land on hard dirt or rock. But it she can have just enough heat to soften the snow... Still, these thoughts take a back seat to getting off the train. If she has the time to dampen, she will, otherwise she'll jump when Swan does. Because it won't matter what temperature her body is if she goes plummeting over the cliff.

The shadows cooperate with Swan, or at least the shifting of shadow does, for her and Alex. Its quick and dirty, given the little amount of time before the train is due to fall off the bridge, and so the shadowshifting brings Swan and Alex the jumping off spot that then need for the leap.

The soft grasses in the promised ditch, a wide one, await Swan and Alex's jump, and Alex even has a moment to douse herself before the pair leap off of the train and into it.

The landing is easy, and the two of them are safe and sound. The train has gone off of the edge and into a canyon somewhat narrower than the one they remember seeing. The bridge is different, too. It's moister here, and a little colder, and the vegetation somewhat greener.

This is most definitely no longer the shadow with Esperance, Hugo, Cazaril or Huttner.

Espérance nods, already rising from the table.

Espérance heads for the front of the train, thinking "crossbow" at her bracelet. There's also a stray thought about armor-piercing quarrels.

The transition between cars allows Espérance to see and feel the wind on her face as they briefly are exposed to the outside. It also allows her to see that the swarm is growing ever nearer. But without incident, she and her companions pass into the next car, with the majority of the patrons of the dining car heading the same direction.

By the time the trio have entered the narrow-passaged car with many doors, Espérance's thoughts become reality. The bracelet on her wrist transforms to a bone-white crossbow. A jet black quarrel, gleaming, is already snugly in place.

Espérance will also note that the passengers that followed them into this car are opening the many doors in this car and closing them behind them. A glimpse inside one as Espérance and Huttner pass it shows a small room, not much wider than the door itself and not very deep.

Huttner gives a glance at one of these doors and then at Espérance. "Dragon should not be far ahead of this car."

At the end of this car is a tall man, portly, carrying a baton. He is standing across the threshold of the exit door.

"Quo Vadis" the man says imperiously. He looks at the trio again, as Hugo gives off a growl. "Where are you going? All of the security room cars are behind you."

"We're going to make sure the dragon stays in one piece," Espérance informs him calmly, meanwhile thinking, =...odd as that may sound.=

"And who are you to do so?" the official says, looking at Huttner and Espérance with a skeptical look. "I do not recognize your authority to inspect the Dragon. Now, turn around, whoever you are."

Huttner gives a glance at one of these doors and then at Espérance. "Dragon should not be far ahead of this car."

At the end of this car is a tall man, portly, carrying a baton. He is standing across the threshold of the exit door.

"Quo Vadis" the man says imperiously. He looks at the trio again, as Hugo gives off a growl. "Where are you going? All of the security room cars are behind you."

"We're going to make sure the dragon stays in one piece," Espérance informs him calmly, meanwhile thinking, =...odd as that may sound.=

"And who are you to do so?" the official says, looking at Huttner and Espérance with a skeptical look. "I do not recognize your authority to inspect the Dragon. Now, turn around, whoever you are."

Huttner gives a look to Espérance and then straightens his back. He steps forward and glares at the official.

"She is Espérance of Sawall, daughter of the Queen Mother and half-sister to his majesty, Emperor Merlin I. She is the bearer and wielder of Draconis Argentum,. As her herald, I demand that you part way for her, or else you risk Vendetta."

Hugo, not to be denied, barks once in agreement.

The nameless official seems to take this all at face value, as the sweat appears on his face. He nervously speaks in a nearly indecipherable stutter.

"How...how may I serve, Highness?" he stammers.

Espérance sighs. "Just stand out of the way," she recommends.

"As you prefer, Highness." the official says. He does get his bulk out of the way, allowing Espérance and Huttner to pass and continue through three more cars without incident.

"I meant what I said, although it would take two more public declarations from me, and no repudiation from you to make it official." Huttner says. He hurries his pace, keeping up with Espérance. "The position of herald, I mean."

"I finally would have something on my brother" he adds, in a softer but audible tone of voice, possibly meant for himself.

"Well, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have for the job," Espérance assures him. Briefly she wonders what it would be like to have a brother, before realizing with a slight shock that, according to what she's been told, she has one. Trying to one-up the Emperor, though ... that might be more trouble than it's worth. She'll have to meet him first, and find out.

"When this is all over." Huttner says, thoughtfully looking at Espérance. "I will do it properly, with witnesses."

The front car of the train, which appears to be another safety car, is much like the previous one. The main difference is the front door. This door is covered in sigils and symbols with a garish yellow and black that, although she cannot read it, suggest to her to be much like a skull and crossbones symbol on a bottle of poison--a clear warning.

Through a window on the door, the bulk of the large dragon is visible, loping along as it pulls the train in its bound state.

Also, there is a very prominent lock on the door.

"Break it?" Huttner suggests. In a window to the left, Espérance can see that the swarm is growing apparently larger in size--rapidly so. Its also clear that the metal insects will reach the bound dragon along with the rest of the train within minutes.

"It seems to be the only way we'll get a clear shot at those things," Espérance replies. "How much do you think I'll annoy the dragon by climbing onto its back?"

"Dragon is already bound and chained to a train and compelled to move," Huttner says with a touch of levity. "I think that you and I walking on its back is going to be the least thing it's concerned with. We should be careful where we step on it, of course."

He looks at the lock, then at the crossbow form of Draconis Argentum, and then at Espérance. "Would you prefer to do it, or shall I?"

At this point, the swarm is close enough that a soft undercurrent of the sound of the swarm makes is now audible, even with the roar of the train.

"You open it, I'll be first through and ready to shoot," Espérance tells him.

Huttner nods, and motions for Espérance to step back. Even so, she can feel the chill that emanates from his hands. In short order, a sphere the size of a fruit from the Duchess' orangery, blue-white in color, forms. Huttner tenses up his shoulder and throws the sphere squarely at the lock.

With a crack, the sphere hits its mark, and shatters the lock into pieces, which fall to the floor, allowing Espérance the opportunity to open the door.

She hits it with her shoulder and barrels on through.

Beyond the door, there is a platform, just narrow enough for her to stand on before stepping onto the back of the beast. From this vantage point, it is difficult to get a good aim at any except the furthest outliers of the swarm.

She can see, though, from her perch that the dragon and the track ahead runs toward a bridge over a river gorge. There is something on the tracks there, some miles ahead, and also something flying, larger than any of the swarm.

Espérance doesn't pause long on the platform, but scrambles up the back of the dragon to a height where she can get a wider view.

The dragon bucks a little bit at the intrusion onto its scaly back, but Espérance finds no difficulty making her way to a point just short of between the dragon's folded (and bound) wings. This is about the highest point on the dragon. Huttner is right behind her.

This spot gives her a wide view of the entire situation. The large approaching swarm. The rapidly approaching smudge ahead on the track suggesting that in a few miles, the train is going to cross that river gorge.

Oh, yes, and the explosion.

Yes, the explosion. Suddenly, a wide swath of the swarm, near to Espérance is rocked by an explosion, close enough to feel the heat. Her keen eyes revealed to her that the explosion came from something launched from further down the train. While this has thinned out the smaller metal insects, larger creatures, like weird crosses between ants and something else, are riding behind the explosion. A buzz from the crossbow as she points the crossbow in their direction seems to suggest that they are now in range of her weaponry.

The other thing Espérance notices, before she can commence firing is that flying thing. It flies toward the train propelled toward it by its speed as well as the speed of the dragon. It turns out to be a large leathery winged creature, nothing much like a bird, flies toward the train from directly ahead. And it speaks...shouts at her and Huttner as it draws near.

"The Bridge is Out! Reverse your course!" the flying creature implores as it starts banking around for another pass.

"No, it couldn't be!" Huttner says aloud, concentrating more on the leathery winged creature than the swarm or anything else.

"Couldn't be what?" Espérance asks him, even while firing her first bolt at the ant-creature. "And how do we stop this thing, if that bridge really is out?"

A shot rings out and hits the creature in the thorax. A second bolt is necessary to finish the creature and cause it to fall off its mount to the ground below.

Espérance fires and finishes it off.

The creature tumbles to the ground with a gurgle in its throat. Its mount spins around aimlessly and helplessly.

"We have two options." Huttner shouts "We find the Beastmaster on this train and get him to stop the dragon. No time for that. We need to detach the dragon from the train. Cut it loose."

Comprehending this instantly, Espérance thinks a shape at Draconis Argentum that looks something like a cross between a hoe and a pickax -- heavy, and with an edge that can cleave metal without damage.

The object is a bit unwieldly but is unmistakably suited to chopping apart objects. It retains the black and silver look to it.

Hugo, from the platform, barks. The Pterosaur is coming back, and in fact is changing. In a practiced move, he is already taking on his bipedal form as he approaches the dragon's back so that he is standing on two feet when he lands. The Pterosaur is now a thin but well muscled man. His dark hair and goatee are graying suggesting age but among shifters this could be an affectation only. He is dressed in tough clothing of black leather and has a hand and a half sword in a back scabbard.¹

"Serpent's Missing Eye." Huttner says. "Orcini."

"We must destroy the [chains] attaching the dragon to the train, brother!" Orcini instructs without preamble. "If you can freeze it, Angrvadill can shatter it!" Orcini reaches for the sword on his back.

"Wait. She bears Draconis Argentum, transformed." Huttner counters, pointing at Espérance and her transformed weapon. It doesn't look much like a sword, but the color scheme of the tool is certainly nagging at Orcini's memory. It certainly is unprecedented for the Great Weapon to take such a shape.

The swarm, and the broken bridge continue to both approach.

Orcini turns to look at Espérance appraisingly. "It is unworthy work for so great a blade, lady, but if you would put it to that purpose then strike fast and true." Orcini turns back to his brother. "Shall we prepare a cold and wet welcome for our Lessiman friends, brother? A little ice on their wings should bring them to oneness with the earth."

"They are Lessiman?" Huttner says, with shock.

Espérance strikes twice. Her first blow is directed at the chains binding the dragon to the train. The second aims to sever the bindings of the dragon's wings. If there is a gorge coming up, she doesn't like the idea of the dragon plunging into it any better than she likes the idea of the train doing so.

Although Huttner has not prepared the chains in any way, and perhaps has never done this before,Espérance's weapon seems to understand, and help guide her movements as she unleashes her strength. Fencing and swordplay are more often finesse and skill as strength and power, but it is strength and power that Espérance needs to deal with the chains that binds the dragon.

And it is strength that she finds. Whether it is her own inner reserves, or from the sword, or from both, her blows ring true. The first blow hits the chains, and cleaves them as a knife might cleave a warm stick of butter, slicing through with little difficulty. The dragon remains in place, held by one more chain.

Her second blow, at the sole set of wing-binding chains, causes the dragon to shriek as the bat-like wings unfurl. The unfurled wings slow down the train somewhat, but with the dragon now seeking escape, the train is pulled ever faster toward the chasm and death.

Oh, and one of the riders is swinging around in a slow arc to try and take a swipe at the swordswoman from Riverside.

In the meantime, Huttner and Orcini, and yes, Hugo, have a more pressing problem. The smallest of the swarm are now at the train, and Huttner starts spraying ice, snow and water at the portion of the swarm pressing on him. Metal insects crash together and start falling down, as ice and water foul wings and joints. The range of his icy spray is not large, but the portion of the swarm assigned to him dies and dies.

Orcini, and Hugo (clearly a transformed demon, to Orcini's eyes) also have a cloud of metal lessiman constructs to deal with as well, with a mounted rider barreling toward Orcini as well.

"She's freeing the dragon:" Huttner shouts hoarsely to Orcini. Together, the brothers can and do fight their way to the platform on the car, using the cover of that spot to limit the vector of incoming attacks, and deal damage to the Lessimans at the same time.

Espérance makes three moves in such quick succession that they seem like a single orchestrated action. Her first strike is at the final chain binding the dragon to the train. As her weapon comes back up (and before the dragon can take flight), she thinks it back into a sword, simultaneously leaping and striking at the aerial rider coming for her. Whether or not her blow connects, she prepares herself to land beside the tracks where her leap has aimed her.

Her blow rings out on the chain with a single sharp sound, severing the final tie that holds the dragon to the train. While her leaping blow with the sword, moments later, does not connect with her insectoid foe (it proves faster than she expects), it does drive the creature back in an effort to avoid vivisection This gives her the room that she needs to continue her motion off of the train and onto the embankment in a rolling landing that is followed immediately by Hugo, who hits the ground in a whirling ball of dog.

By the time the two of them come to a stop and Espérance can stand, they can see that the dragon is flying away, over the bridge. Orcini and Huttner are both presumably still on the train headed for the bridge, and, in the bargain, she can see Swan on the top of a car, shooting her guns like a madwoman. Where Cazaril and Alex are is not immediately clear.

Also fortunately, for the moment, given that the train is between her and the swarm and riders, no one and nothing is trying to hurt, maim or kill Espérance at this exact moment.

As for Orcini and Huttner, the train is slowing, but (between swings of swords and elemental craft on the Lessima) a glance at the track ahead suggests that it doesn't look like it will coast to a stop before it plunges off of the destroyed bridge.

It is at this point that a mental voice, strong, enters Orcini's head Ironically, Espérance hears it as well.

"We have to get off this train. Now."

=Tell me something I don't know,= Espérance thinks wryly.

"You all right, Hugo?" she calls to her companion. She knows Hugo is pretty good at following her across and off of roofs, but they're not quite as practiced getting off things that are moving (though there's been a carriage or two in the past).

Hugo shakes himself off as if he had been just doused in a fountain, gives off a single affirmative bark, and looks alert.

"Good boy!" Espérance tells him.

There doesn't seem to be anything more she can do about the situation of the train. Given that, the swarm seems the next most immediate threat once it finds her again. She thinks Draconis Argentum back into a crossbow for the moment.

Smoothly and easily the chain breaking tool morphs into the same crossbow seen earlier, complete with a nocked and waiting quarrel.

"The disembodied voice makes a good point, Brother." Orcini agrees. "Let us join the bearer of Draconis Argentum on the ground." Orcini jumps from the train intending to roll with the fall and spring to his feet ready for any residual Lessiman threat.

"That was Lord Cazaril Sawall" Huttner says proudly, following Orcini down to the ground. He, and Orcini land close enough to Espérance to see her and make their way to her without difficulty.

Orcini rises and takes a moment to brush the dust from his clothes. "You are moving in high circles." He comments mildly.

The metal insects and the few remaining Lessiman riders have concentrated their interest and attacks on a figure at the top of one of the cars approaching.

Swan.

As Espérance, Hugo, Huttner, and Orcini watch, she finishes off a rider, and, aiming for the last car, manages to disappear entirely. She simply disappears from view in mid-jump. The train, though, since it is passing by where the foursome stand, is starting to go over the bridge. It has slowed down, but perhaps not enough to keep the entire set of cars from plunging over the edge.

There is a figure between the penultimate and last car that might be Swan or Alex but it is not both of them. And there is no sign of Cazaril.

"Come on, folks, last stop before Doomsday!" Espérance mutters.

"How many do we wait for?" Orcini asks. "I shall see if any who remain can be succored." While waiting for an answer, Orcini begins to change again. The saurian form was good for gliding, but if he must rescue anyone from a plunge he needs a form that can dive. So Orcini takes on the form a great raptor. It is not quite the roc of legends but then Orcini only plans to carry a human or two rather than an elephant. He goes to scout the train and see if anyone needs a ride.

"Three!" Espérance calls after him. "Swan, Alex, and Caz!"

"That is my elder brother" Huttner says to Espérance. "A Knight of the Church of the Serpent. A war hero, too."

Espérance has no time to do more than not before Hugo barks a warning, giving Espérance and Huttner a few moments warning.

A few of the surviving Lessiman metal insects make it over the passing train and buzz toward the trio

Espérance crossbow comes up immediately and she fires a bolt at the nearest.

In the meantime, Orcini's flight to the end of the train is relatively unfettered or undeterred by opponents. None of the Lessiman riders appear to airbone, leaving only a smattering of insects.

Only one person, in black and silver, appears at the far end of the train for Orcini's ride. Orcini's education does tell him that this is indeed Lord Cazaril Sawall, the Athas, son of Despil Sawall.

Rather than waiting for Orcini to have to get too close, especially given the closeness of the end of the bridge, a touch of the Logrus on Orcini's transformed leg, and the scion of Sawall is securely fastened and lifted free of the train by what is likely a Logrus tendril. To Espérance, if she can spare a look from her own situation, it looks like Cazaril is invisibly tethered to the giant bird that is Orcini.

"The others left this shadow" Cazaril says in a mental burst as he dangles in midair. "I believe Swan trumped the two off of the train."

As Cazaril speaks with Orcini, Espérance has her attentions fully engaged by the remaining metal insects. For every bolt that she unleashes, and many do hit their marks with a preternatural frequency that exceeds her ability with the weapon, another bolt appears in place, ready for her to shoot again, and again.

Huttner does his part to make this easier, as well, spraying the approaching insects with a mixture of water, ice and snow that fouls their wings and makes them even easier for Espérance to shoot down. By the time Orcini can ferry Cazaril back to the embankment, the remaining insects are scattering. If Espérance wishes to continue to fire, she will have targets, or else the threat has been dissipated and defeated.

Espérance allows the remaining insects to make off, in favor of turning to greet Cazaril.

Orcini wobbles a touch as he rebalanced to accommodate Cazaril's weight. "Then we must seek them out. Orcini, knight of the Serpent and brother to Huttner." Orcini answers simply. He flies Caz back to where Espérance and Huttner wait and sets him down before retaking his human form. "Your friends have escaped to shadows beyond this one it seems. I bear a compass tuned to the blood of Sawall. If the rest of you do not act as lodestones, we could use it to track them."

"Killing us, brother, would be an ineffective way to reduce our capacity to do so." Huttner says wryly.

"A Knight of the Serpent, bearing a Bloodline Compass. Neither common, and together a wonder that has come at precisely the right time. We three appear to have friends in places I didn't realize we had." Cazaril says.

Hugo barks.

"Four" Cazaril amends. "The Emperor, or her Ladyship the Queen Mother perhaps?" he asks.

"Speaking of which." Cazaril adds. "Although if you have a Compass, you already know who we are, good Knight. I am Cazaril, son of Lord Despil Sawall. You know your brother, of course. And this..." he gestures to "is Espérance, daughter of the Queen Mother. Once she is formally adopted into the House,she will displace me to be third in the succession within Sawall, and thus 27th in line for the Throne."

Espérance raises an eyebrow at this assessment, but doesn't comment on it. All that sort of calculation can wait for when she actually arrives in her mother's court.

Orcini dips his head in a shallow bow towards Espérance. "I greet you, scion of Sawall. I am pleased that I arrived in time to be of help as much for the pleasure of seeing the Draconis Argentum in action as for the fact that it was charged duty to do so."

Espérance returns the dip of the head. "I'm just as glad that you arrived when you did, good Knight," she tells him, picking up on the form of address that Cazaril just used.

Orcini turns back towards Cazaril. "As to your friends in high places, I am sure they exist but can shed little light as to their identity. My ecclesiastical superior that sent me on this mission implied that a great many strings had been pulled to set me in motion but did not deign to reveal who worked them. No doubt that will be revealed when it is no longer politically necessary to plausibly deny my actions if needed." Orcini smiles thinly.

"I still do not know a tenth of what you have done, brother, and for whom." Huttner points out. "And, perhaps never shall." He smiles slightly. "And maybe I shouldn't, either."

Orcini nods at his brother in approval of such a wise position.

"Any road, Sir Orcini." Cazaril says. "What do you need all of us to do to help get to Alex and Swan. If they have moved laterally in shadow, the danger we just faced would possibly be transmogrified into something else."

"Instead of the train being attacked by Lessiman metal insects, Swan and Alex could be, for example, on a train facing a acid rain storm,or an angry sand elemental, or a war party" Huttner says to Espérance.

"It's good that we're ready for just about anything, then, isn't it?" Espérance replies with a slight grin. She seems to be addressing Draconis Argentum as well as Huttner.

"My own talents and that of this compass should be enough to find them if they have not moved far." Orcini replies to Cazaril. "Mainly I shall require that the three of you stay close to me and move as I move." Orcini cups his hands with the compass held between them and seeks to determine both the general location of the missing Sawalls and the weak points in reality that will lead him to them.

"Easy enough." Huttner says.

Hugo barks once, and takes position on Espérance's right.

She lays a hand on his shaggy ruff, and moves them into position next to Huttner.

Orcini's compass has a strong lead, and the world slowly starts changing around the three people. This doesn't feel like the shadowshifting Cazaril has shown Espérance, there is no gradual shifts. Instead, the cuts and transitions are stark, sudden and palpable. The train line and bridge with small alterations always remains as Orcini works his way through the worlds. The backdrop on the other hand changes from savannah to plains with mountains to a cold plain bracketed by taiga.