A cool breeze washes over the catwalks. It rattles at dangling cables and whistles through the skeletal latticework's that sprout like vines between the homes and business that cling to the sides of the enormous cliff.

None of us had been too keen on spending any more time than absolutely necessary on the rickety catwalk that had saved my, and Cinnamons, life. So the guards had escorted us up a few flights of steps onto of the more stable platforms. There we paused for a few minutes, removed our weapons and stowed them into our packs. With the bags handed over to a couple of our escort we'd started to make our way back toward the Airship docks.

The guard steer us along a bridge that overlooks a large landing that juts into and out from a huge cave. Naturally formed over most likely hundreds of years the crevice tunnels deep into the bedrock of the city overhead.

And is crawling with workers.

I spot a few dwarves that look to be overseeing much of the stone shaping and cutting but there are races of all types involved in the workforce. Particularly, as was to be expected, Goblins.

Clustered together they tended to operate in smaller groups separate from the non-goblins. And a good thing too. There was the same slap-stick styled comedy of errors going on amongst each of the squad like clusters of goblins. All of us, save Plogz, slow to take in the near calamitous efficiency. I shake my head unable to stop my happy smile as I watch one goblin shoring a section of wall with brick while another swings a heavy maul style hammer overhead, missing the first by scant inches as he turns back and forth to grab new bricks from a pile. Both completely oblivious to each other.

Accompanying the banging of hammers on stone, wood and metal there are other noises. Electricity buzzes from where goblins hang suspended from ropes and pulleys, some absurdly tangled, between metal girders. Even with my dark shades on, my eyes sting from the bright sparks that pop and hiss as they use a strange looking Magitech welding contraption to fuse beams together.

"Construction seems to be moving at a good pace, Mr. Plogz." Tomas says, glancing toward the large tunnel and the work going on within.

"That be a factual. She'll be ready to berth a hulk in no time." Plogz says.

I marvel at the space as we pass.

Magitech: Success!

Airship tech: Success!

"That isn't a regular Airship dock, is it?" I ask, "Looks like more along the lines of a mechanized manufacturing platform." From the corner of my eye I see Plogz beady eyes dart toward Tomas.

"Manufacturing?" Tomas brow knits and he glances toward me.

"Nothing quite so extensive." Plogz waves his cane about dismissively and continues walking forward. "But more complexied repairs and retrofitings won't be beyond the G.U. once she is up and running."

We are headed towards a series of elevators now. Except for a few Goblins standing near the control levers the platform is empty. The lifters silent. Locked in place.

This lifter differs from the previous in that it does not only rise up and down but slides side to side as well, connecting where we now stand to other walkways both above and below. A closer look confirms there are other patterns of lifters.

Most don't seem to make the journey all the way from top of the cliff to the bottom like the previous one had done. Many of them look to be able to travel both horizontally and vertically, or to even lock into place with other lifters to form bridges between gaps.

The whole thing reminds me of some kind of puzzle in a video game where the player needs to turn particular switches to line up platforms in order close gaps that would be too far to jump across or to access other map areas.

My stomach lurches just looking the steampunk turbo-lifts. I in no way want to get onto another of these death trap contraptions...

Wits save vs Fear: Success!

...but I push down the anxiety as we continue down the steps and to the platform.

"Mr. Plogz if you could come with me? The rest of you men wait here." Tomas says.

While the Marshal and Plogz approach the goblin lifter crew we begin to spread out. Cinnamon, Kryst and I move over to a protrusion of rock. I lean against it to take a little weight off my leg.

The only way off of the platform is via the elevators or back the way we came on. The guards mill about at stairs. Keeping their eye on us, but giving us some space to take a breather.

The walk hadn't been as bad as I had thought. The sweet smelling anesthetic cream Cinnamon had lathered me up with has been a godsend, taking the edge off the initial pain and bolstering my focus like I had slammed back a six pack of highly caffeinated energy drinks. As time passes however, I can feel the effects steadily dissipating.

I do have a bit of a limp, but that may just be my own unwillingness to put undue pressure onto my injured foot. There is no question that I'm being overly cautious about gripping the rough wood or rusty handrails with my torn palms. I have no idea if the magic salve would fight off infection but I'm not looking to find out. I didn't need splinters or to get lockjaw from tetanus.

Captain Reigns separates from us as well. Walking out to the end of a pier like protrusion that juts out from the landing over the lake far below. The breeze tosses her hair gently. I think I catch her lips moving but I can't tell for certain. Head tilted back, her eyes closed she stands stock-still. Catching the sun on her face.

Marshal Tomas and Plogz stand with the goblins talking between each other. The human addresses the goblins directly though at times they seem to glance between him and Plogz as if not comprehending.

Insight vs Goblin Workers: Success!

Obviously clearing up translations I see the worker goblins nodding energetically to Plogz and I pick up excited chattering as they point toward various lifters, gears and even lean dangerously far over the rails to indicate the large cogwheels.

As they chat the Marshal pulls out that same grey slate. He quickly reads over what he had written previously then wipes it down with a tiny cloth produced from a hip pouch.

Like a eraser on a chalk board the faintly glowing notes fade until there is only smooth unblemished ash grey slate once more. The Marshal nods a few times as Plogz continues their conversation and he begins etching away at the pad again.

It seems to be magical by the way that the words glow briefly and I study the device from afar.

Magitech: Success!

Scriber

The common moniker for a wide variety of sending devices that allow written messages to be transmitted over large distances. A Scriber can be linked to other similar items using enchantment symbols or runestones.

I get that familiar rush of knowledge. As if a Gamemaster has read out or quoted a short description for me. I try and draw on it like I had done when repairing Plogz mechtanical leg. Similar to my innate knowledge of Airship, Wargear and Golemtech engineering there comes a sudden wealth of understanding.

Most Scribers use enchantment magic, but there is a bit of a crossover with Magitech. At least enough for me to gain knowledge of the materials used in their construction along with various uses of the devices.

I feel a swell of delight as my brain releases a bit of dopamine... or is it serotonin? as I get a little more familiar with the workings of the world. Sometimes figuring out the rules of the game were just as much fun as the game itself.

What can only be described as memory fills my mind.

Scribestones, slates and plates. Some with small marbles or pebbles etched with runes that slot into groves. Wood and even metal Oujia board like devices with glowing symbols and letters.

There are even Scriber businesses where news and mail can be transmitted to faraway lands. Most of the recollections that I have picture them as being expensive to produce and quite a bit larger than the small item Marshal Thomas is holding. That he has one that can be put into a pouch pocket is impressive. Perhaps the Marshal's position is of a higher ranking that I initially thought?

Knowing a number of the inner workings and various mechanisms of the magical 'text chat' devices sparks a flurry of ideas. Ones that I may have to look into when I get some 'Jelf' meditation time to spend my character points. Like the questions regarding Marshal Tomas position in the guard I push them out of my mind. For now, I'm a bit more interested in finding out what the goblin and human are discussing.

Perception: Fail!

They are too far away for me to hear. However, I doubt that Cinnamon has the same problem I do.

"Hey, Cinni?" I give a nudge to Cinnamon standing next to me and lower my voice to a whisper "What do you suppose they are talking about over there?"

"Humm?" Her long ears swivel in the direction of the lead guard and trio of goblins to eavesdrop in on their conversation. "Oh, Marshal Tomas is asking about what happened on the lifter. For his report."

"Plogz didn't think it was an accident does he?" I ask.

Cinnamon listens for a bit and I strain my own ears but I can't hear anything but some low guttural murmurs and the cry of seagulls. Those bunny ears of hers are pretty amazing.

"He isn't sure what happened. The lifters do have safeties, but whatever caused damage to the gears must have broken the emergency mechtanics as well." Cinnamon says.

Magictech: Success!

That's strange. I know that whatever could have wrecked the safety locks of the lift would have had to be pretty powerful. An explosive of some kind?

Explosives: Success!

I dismiss the idea. The elevator platform had been fairly large but not so big that we too wouldn't have all been caught in the radius of a blast strong enough to damage the large cogwheels.

Cinnamon is still eavesdropping on the conversation but she looks a bit annoyed. Her eyes dart toward the Airship Captain and I look over as well.

Captain Reigns is still on the ledge but has taken a coin pouch from her belt, holding it at arm's length out over the drop. With a deft movement she pulls a dagger from her hip and slashes the pouch. Gold and silver coins are sent tumbling out into the open air from the cleanly cut slit.

She stands motionless until no more of the contents spill out then dumps the remaining coins in the ruined pouch into her hand and transfers them to a second coin purse on her belt.

Did she just toss away a bunch of money? Why? The Captain turns and catches my boggling look. She gives me a smile and small nod.

Cinnamon gives a soft suck to her teeth and I turn my attention back to her. Did she catch me staring too?

"What's up, Cinni?

"Plogz is telling the Marshall that none of us would have made it off of the lifter if it wasn't for the quick thinking and actions of you and..." Cinnamon folds her arms over her chest and continues with a insulting, but cute, sneer, "Captain Reigns."

Whew. At least she didn't catch me looking. But what the heck? If I didn't know better I'd swear Cinnamon was part feline instead of rabbit by the catty attitude she has toward the sexy swashbuckler.

"I dunno. I think I would have been alright." Kryst chuckles.

"Not all of us have the luxury of defying gravity." I twist to regard the fairy hovering to my left and let out a small grunt. A sharp twinge pulls at my side. I'm sure I have a large bruise under my armor right where I'd slammed into the wall and walkway in my effort to avoid crushing Bunnimon.

"Are you alright, Brian? You look to be in pain." Cinnamon has turned to look at me intently, worry knitting her brow.

"Nah. Muscles are a little tight. Maybe have a couple of bruises is all." I raise my arm to stretch a bit, "How about you , Cinni? You weren't injured during fall we're you?"

"Oh no. I'm fine." Cinnamon shakes her head.

"Are you sure? When you were Bunnimon--"

"Bunnimon?" She blinks at me with a confused, quickly turning to upset expression.

Oops. Her rabbit curse is a very touchy subject.

"I wasn't poking fun. I just thought it was fitting. And, just like you... " I ladle on a big helping of sexy with a wink over the top of my shades, "pretty damn cute."

Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success!

Cinnamon ponders that for a moment then gives me a quick nod in agreement and her closed eyed smile. "I suppose you are right." She coos.

"I'm glad you agree, Cinni-buns" I laugh, glad that I side stepped the landmine of hurt feelings. Yeah, I'm definitely getting better at this! Her demeanor and my own growing confidence pushes me on. Hoping to learn a little more about her curse I continue with some gentle prodding.

"I was just wondering, what is it like? When you transform I mean."

Cinnamon glances around for a moment as if to make sure there is no one within earshot and then gives a small shrug of her shoulders

"It's... different. Everything gets really..." She seems to struggle for the proper words, "I guess, really... big? Is the only way I can describe how it makes me feel. Everything is just way more focused and... and scarier." Her ears droop and she starts fidgeting with her fingers.

The memory of Bunnimon squealing in panic as I'd stuffed the struggling rabbit into my knapsack resurfaces. There had been no time for gentleness in the moment and remembering the dreadful hi-pitched scream now makes my heart ache. It was as if I had stepped on a kittens tail and it had hiss-cried then scampered off, wounded and terrified of me.

"Cinnimon?" My voice lowers in concern, "Listen. On the lifter everything happened so fast and I... Well, are you sure I didn't hurt you? I don't know how much you remember but, I had to put you in my bag and I might have been a little... rough." I give a weak apologetic shrug.

"Nah. This one here?" Kryst interjects with a chuckle as she hovers between us. "She don't mind a little of the rough stuff. Ain't that right, Carrots?"

Kryst aims a Cheshire grin toward Cinnamon then buzzes over to land on my shoulder.

Cinnamons cheeks flush with embarrassment and the inside of her ears turn a interesting shade of pink.

"Stop teasing her, Kryst."

"Teasing?" The fairy laughs then plops down on my shoulder, sprawling out like a lazy cat. "Rrrrright."

My mind immediately begins to whirl as Kryst words burrow into my brain to take root in my intrigued libido. Just what have these two been talking about?

Luckily, Cinnamon recovers from her shyness quickly and interrupts my naughty thoughts with a cute clearing of her throat. Steering my focus back to the conversation.

"Yes, so umm... anyways, I find that I'm much more impulsive when I'm under the curse. It's as if my body would rather respond on pure instinct. If I am not careful I react without meaning to."

"What do you mean?" I ask, finally shooing away the lewd imagery.

"Well, okay, you know when I changed and you were holding me on the lifter? My first instinct was to bite you and escape." She averts her eyes from mine.

"I'm glad that you didn't."

"No. I managed to catch myself. But it takes so much effort. Everything is terrifying. It took all the self-control I had not to try and simply get away from you and find something to hide underneath."

Cinnamon lets out a full body sigh, "I am sorry that I was no help." She trails off, her eyes downcast. "Again."

Uh-oh. There's that self-depreciation of hers rearing its ugly head once more.

"I don't know about that, Cinni. If you hadn't 'bunnied on' like you did I have no idea how we would've all gotten off of that lifter.

The reality that we'd nearly plummeted to our death is still fresh in my mind but I need to keep playing it cool like it 'ain't no thang'. I smile and give a casual chuckle in an attempt to keep the mood light.

"We saved all of our supplies." I motion to her backpack and mine hanging on the backs of the couple guards. I then point to the various potions and salves that were still on her belts. "And, I sure needed those. So in the end, making with the cute and fuzzy-wuzzy was a brilliant course of action."

"Humm, I suppose." Cinnamon seems to contemplate my words and I keep at it.

"And we have learned something from this too which could be really valuable information. Like, you remember things when you are in rabbit form, right? See, I thought that maybe you blacked out or lost time when you were under the effects."

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," Cinnamon shakes her head, "but while it is happening it feels like I'm trapped in a room looking out a window. Separated... but still. It's almost as if I'm guiding the rabbit like you would with a horse's reigns. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, I think I get it." I nod.

"I still understand everything that is happening around me. I know who you are, for example, and I can recognize and understand you but its more than just words too."

"What do you mean?" I almost scratch my cheek but stop a moment before doing so when I catch the lingering cherry almond scent on my hands.

She bites her lip, "When I was... Bunnimon and you were touching me, telling me everything would be okay. I knew you wouldn't let me get hurt but I could sense a deeper connection. How you really felt. Protection, pity, attraction..." She gets a bit bashful and her ears droop in that coy way of hers and I'm fairly sure I am sporting a goofy grin.

Does that mean she had she picked up that I was crushing on her in more ways than just a physical attraction? That I was starting to feel something much deeper toward her?

Crap! If that was the case, did she also get a whiff of the emotions I had when Kryst gave me that oddly euphoric kiss? I get a weird impulse, like I want to pull at my collar with a finger and release a bit of heat from around my neck.

"So you get some kind of... empathic ability?" I ask, attempting to move the conversation along quickly.

"I suppose." Cinnamon shrugs.

"That makes sense." Kryst pipes up. Leaning her back against my neck, her arms behind her head she sits straddling my shoulder.

"What do you mean." Cinnamon asks.

"It's only logical." Kryst replies, "Animals are usually much more sensitive to empathetic queues. Pretty amazing really."

"You say that like it's a good thing." Cinnamon pouts.

"Isn't it?" Kryst chuckles, "You get to experience something that most don't. Your senses open to the world around you. The animal part of you is amplified. And with that so too would your innate tie with nature strengthen."

"Tie with nature?" Cinnamons eyebrows bunch together.

"That is what I said. You see, most Beastkin have lost their, much closer than your average oblivious humanoid, connection to the wild. Sure there are still hold over's like superior senses or..." Kryst points at Cinnamon with an elbow, "Alright, let's use you as an example. Take your jumping ability. Not all Lepuri have that, do they?"

"No." Cinnamon shakes her head, "I mean it isn't uncommon for many of us to develop the ability. But then there are others who are much more fleet of foot than I am." Cinnamon says, "It's rare for a Lepuri to have multiple traits. But it can happen."

"Alright, but have you considered that this 'curse' of yours could be a way to unlock hidden potential? Things that you've never dreamed of."

Kryst shifts about on my shoulder and leans on her thighs as she regards Cinnamon.

"Don't get me wrong, the fact that you can't get down and dirty or that you go all rabbit when you get spooked is plain awful. But, what if you could control it?"

"Control it?" "Cinnamon blinks.

"Do you think that is possible?" I ask turning my head at an awkward angle to glance at the fairy.

"Who's to say." Kryst gives a shrug of her tiny shoulders that tickles my neck. "Personally, I just think that simply dismissing it and ignoring the possibilities might be a mistake."

I ponder over that nugget of information and look to Cinnamon who appears to be doing the same.

"Then again, I'm not the one who has to live with it." Kryst says.

The statement hangs in the air.

"How about you, Kryst? You're into the whole 'knowing your body, higher state of being' thing, right? Could you, I dunno, teach her?" I shrug but Kryst has no trouble balancing with the movement, "Maybe like meditation or focusing techniques or something?"

Cinnamons has a hopeful expression on her face and her eyes dart to where Kryst sits perched on my shoulder.

"Possibly." The fairy sighs, "But that will take time." Kryst whispers and I detect a heavy dose of melancholy.

Kryst's sucks her teeth loudly in my ear making me wince. Her demeanor swings about in a sudden one eighty. "Why should I waste my energy showing her how to be a better bunny?"

"Hey now, c'mon Kryst, that's not cool. All I was asking--"

"I know exactly what you were asking!" She buzzes off my shoulder and points at us angrily. "Believe it or not I have my own goals and responsibilities and helping either of you two get your rocks off? Ain't one of them!"

Whoa! What the heck? The vehemence in her speech catches me by surprise. Just when I think we were starting to jell things seem to take two steps back.

"Why the nine hells are we sitting around here, anyway?" Kryst turns to the group of idle looking guards. "I'm tired of waiting for you buncha mud-foots to get a move on!"

The guard glance between each other and around with looks of 'you talking to me' confusion.

"Let's go!" Kryst yells, spreading her arms wide.

"I would like that as well." Captain Reigns strides toward us with a sashay to her hips that looks like it belongs on a hip-hop starlet. She stops a few yards away, one hand placed on a cocked hip. "But I think we will have to be waiting for a bit longer, 'ey?"