To save the Occidanian economy while stimulating the fledgling settlements that sprung up in the New World, the Drkahryggur Imperium offered to buy all the gold coins as they had lost value. How could gold have lost value? The presence of counterfeits and too many coins of different weights, shapes and other numismatic features threw the market into disarray. Ordinarily, currency would have taken time to stabilize but under wartime efforts, there was hardly any leeway with which merchants could agree on the value of the currency changing hands and so they turned to the impartial Imperium for intervention where the treasuries of various nations had failed. What many do not know is the Imperium’s intervention and ratification of the currency in use today was contingent on the same currency reaching the New World. How that came to be is an exposition for another time. Excerpt from Valerith Quillworth’s, 'Alkerd: New World History.'

“Status? “ Doladraen asked. The steady glow of runes shone in his face as he stood hunched over the dioramic map showing the surrounding hills.

“ No word from the [Sighter], “ Lezbhan replied, hand to his temple and another to the scrying console, or better known by its generic name, the armacus type II.

“ Hmm, tell them to keep their eyes peeled,” Doladraen murmured, as he stroked his beard. Unlike his father’s his was black and unmarred by the streaks of age, “I can feel as sure as the fire in my gut that they’ll be passing us very soon,” he grumbled

The dwarven captain; [Captain] because he was not a shipmaster like his father, cast his eyes along the rendering of the surrounding ridges, forests and even a flowing river draining into a lake sculpted in miniature in a shade of gray verenite sand.

The navigation artifact, an arcane gyro compass, was a pedestal in the middle of the bridge. The size of a dwarven ale barrel, it was thinner at the bottom with a hemispherical glass top having the appearance of a mushroom with a black stalk and a glass cap. Runes, etched on a radial scale surrounded the artifact, continually recalibrating as if tuning in response to some unseen force.

A model of the Sturmjager stayed levitating in the middle, lifelike down to the smallest livery. Relative to the rest of the scenery, it was parked behind a ridge overlooking the river. A clearing marked a caravan rest stop before the wagon trail skirted the shores of the lake and disappeared between two rugged cliffs where large rock was precariously ensconced forming a natural bridge.

Naturally, up-close the actual features were imposing and stood as tall as some of the colossi in the Vale wood and underneath the same bridge lay the way to Gallowick, the wayside town surrounded on all sides by a deep basin– and it was through Doladraen’s hunch that it would form the strategic point where they would ambush the Stormbreaker.

Stifling a yawn, Doladraen turned his eyes to the other dwarven woman who'd remained behind. Even Dressed in dark garb, Doladraen could not miss the toned muscles under her leathers. She wore a long sleeved tank top that came to her neck. Her armacus, scuffed but well maintained ensleeved both her right arm and left.

One was for offensive spells, another loaded with purely anti-magic matrices like [Dispel Matrix]which would give a mage backlash if used point blank. One of her eyes had an eyepatch, and hid an ocular artifact she used to replace one eye she'd lost to some monster of other from the deep, gouged out of her socket no less. But in turn, she replaced it with an arcane crystalline eye, unorthodox for someone who favored close combat, judging by the twin swords of svartanite steel on her back.

Nonetheless for ranged weapons, she had orbs holstered in pouches around her belt; recyclable spell artifacts she could throw, scrolls were too wasteful—orbs? orbs were rechargeable and better yet, immune to dispelling by outside spell interference. Not even [Dispel] or its ilk could shut off the runecraft on the orbs once they got going. They were powered by monster cores instead of the ambient mana.

In all, Eatrude was a one woman army and Ex-triad, she'd cost him no less than several hundred crowns just to hire her services for one day. Her class was both [Extractor] and [Mage-Hunter], classes which the dwarven captain hoped would come in handy to hijack the Stormbreaker once it made its appearance. Everything hinged on her expertise.

“Eatrude,”

“Captain?” Eatrude replied, pausing filing her nails to look up with her one eye.

“Your mission is to secure leverage,” Doladraen spoke.

“Hmm?”

“According to the information we dredged up, the ship's maker has a daughter…that's your target.”

“What am I up against?” Eatrude inquired, folding her arms under her bosom. Her arms looked bigger than they really were on account of the armacus. Hers were, like Seeker Holly's not civilian issue—they were heavy duty and might as well have looked like exosuit arms, yet if the [Extractor] was hindered by their weight, she did not show it.

“We're not sure of their abilities but there is a sylvani and some bookish whelp barely out of his swaddles, virtually pisswater to you as both neither have combat classes—the sylvani had a run in with some nasty sorts I heard; might still be jumpy…”

Eatrude hummed. Doladraen went on,“ There were reports of a beast however,” as he retrieved a mage slate he was using as a notepad.“ I would peg them as hearsay, tooth or hair has never been seen of it—some say it was just a black feline of some kind hardly larger than an owlcat—”

“ Then we have a maid, suspected to have the [Battle Maid] class,” he snorted and scowled in contempt. “—even if they have a combat class they're no match for you.”

“If I didn't know better I would think you're reading me a load of troll,” Eatrude shook her head. “Ah well, I don't get paid to question my jobs—what about the mageling?”

“Mage or Enchanter, hardly worth noting…I'd say it's overkill to send you in,” Doladraen smiled.

Eatrude stood up and stretched her arms, eliciting satisfying pops which made the dwarven [Captain] flinch ,“ So my securing leverage is just the fail safe.”

“Aye, my men will secure the ship….I have specialists for this kind of thing, an [Aersmith], another [Helmsman] and some crewmen well versed in combat and retrieving artifacts—we want the magitech that flies the ship no more no less,”

”And the Seeker? This might come back to bite you,”

“Bah,” Doladraen flicked his arm apathetically,” we just misdirected her that's all—there'll be nothing to find by the time she realizes it…besides, we have salvage rights under mercenary charter even if the bounty has not been instituted—”

“Captain!” Lezbahn yelled,“ [Message] echoes 50 quints out!”

“They're here—” Doladraen grinned as he flicked open the lid to the speaking tube. “All hands to battle stations!”

After talking with Arcis, Nevine was stuck trying to keep the adventurers from making a mess of their ship with their shameless exploration. One of the ursinkin had gotten into the small kitchen and was helping themselves to the meat in the cooling cabinet. Another one of them had wandered off to explore the crew quarters while others had time and again tried to get to the cockpit where Arcis was helming the ship; that was just a disaster waiting to happen.

Another two pairs of both the Hill Maiden’s and the Fanged were in the living compartment scandalously making out in the seating area much to the embarrassment of three other non-spectators. Of all the people in the vicinity, the adventurer twins and Remus who sat in awkward silence seemed to be the only people with a modicum of decorum in the ship. Elena had barricaded herself in her berth and try as he might, Nevine couldn’t get her to come out and help rein in the adventurers before they did something stupid.

It was then that he realized he’d not seen Bruhilde anywhere.

“Oh no, “ he muttered, recalling one place he’d never thought to check. He scrambled up the ladder stairs from the engine where he'd gone to make sure no one had wandered off and ran onto the main deck. As he skidded into the living compartment, he found the door to Arthur’s study or his ready room as he’d called it ajar. The sounds of rustling parchment and the clinking of things came from the room. Nevine darted in and found Bruhilde, legs hoisted on the deck, trying to make sense of some random book. Fortunately, the cabinets and drawers hadn’t been dsisturbed…much.

“ Miss Bruhilde, “ Nevine started, “ this is the captain’s study, you're not allowed to be here. The freckled boy massaged the bridge of his brow, feeling the onset of a hangover lingering just outside his awareness he needed a cup of cavea, ‘ Coffee, coffee, ‘ he corrected himself.

“ Ah, wee sprog, didn’t see yer there.” Bruhilde grinned. She looked comically large in Arthur’s chair which groaned as she slid her legs off the table. She booted in furry leather that looked more suited to plodding in the snow; Nevine frowned at the detritus left on the table top; woman noticed and blew it off with a breath grinning sheepishly.

“‘N speaking of the captain,” she said, putting down the book she’d been holding, “ Where is the strapping lad? Must be a rich fellow, “ she added pointing around the ready room. Nevine followed her motions, furrowing his brow questioningly.

“ Ah, Lena told me about him, “ she said.

“ Ah, you’re already that close?” Nevine asked as he moved across the ready room. He picked up the book, tempted to peek and see what was written therein but held back.

“ Yeah yeah, ale and loose lips,” she said as a matter of fact.” And loose legs,” she said teasingly.

Nevine felt the blood go to his head, to which the woman laughed, her voice rolling a contralto which could put a [Ballader] to shame.

“ You’re too wound up–relax, “ Bruhilde said, wiping off mirthful tears from her face. She had laughed until she’d hunched over the desk. Nevine turned his gaze away again, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “You should have Annika make a man outta ya, “ she winked, “ she kind of likes you. Did you know that she’s the booksy of our bunch?”

Nevine sputtered but managed to compose himself. The woman in front of him was distracting, aggravating and yet, you couldn't help wanting to like her easy going attitude, when she wasn’t saying anything scandalous.

“We’re getting side-tracked Miss Bruhilde.”

“Bah, that’s a mouthful, call me Hilde, “ she chortled.

“Miss Hilde”

“Ah…c’mon, “ Bruhilde pouted.

Nevine scowled and continued, “You shouldn’t be here Miss Hilde, and please, “ he sighed defeated, “ get Miss Signe and Miss Frigg to stop, being so lecherous in the living compartment…we have children on board.” ‘As close as we can get to a child anyway,’ Nevine almost rolled his eyes, thinking about Arcis’ spat with Elena. “And no, whatever it is you’re insinuating I wouldn’t think of it–“ he said adjusting his glasses as a stoic expression passed over his face.

“Hoh?! He already has children?” Bruhilde crowed, suddenly slamming her palms on the table. “ Where are they? Is that why you didn’t want us to go topside because we might scare them?” she said with earnest eyes.

“Eryth’s Sodden Dirt! “Nevine hissed a curse as he unwittingly looked behind him. Bruhilde scampered over the table, and ran towards the door. Nevine thought to bar her way out but the thought of being bodily moved away made him hesitate as he saw the woman bearing down on the door–only for the very thing he tried to avoid to happen.

Bruhilde grabbed him and dragged him out as the teenager yelped, trying in vain to prevent the book he was holding from slipping. They moved past the living compartment much to Nevine’s protests that he be put down. Up the ladder stairs they went, making their way onto the bridge deck. Bruhilde saw the hatch at the end of the compartment and smiled running towards the cockpit,

“Wait, stop Miss Hilde!” but Nevine spoke too soon.

Arcis' mood was in the dumps, cogitating with the events that had transpired not less than half a quart past when she heard Nevine yell and the hatch to the cockpit slam open. Arcis was about to peek over the chair and see what the cause of the ruckus had been when she heard someone else exclaim,

“ Wait, who is helming the ship?” was what the synth heard before a shadow loomed over the seat. She chanced the barest of glances upwards, only because the stretch she was piloting was a narrow canyon and she had to watch the sharp turns.

“ Ah, hello?” she squeaked, caught off guard like a small animal corralled into a corner. She felt the woman’s gaze pass over her, the instrument panel and the scenery flashing ahead of them and then silence.

“ Our helmsman is a fille?!” Bruhilde exclaimed. “Wait, hold yer sails, where is the captain?”

Arcis heard Nevine reply, “ I was about to get to that before you hoisted me like a burlap of ‘tatoes, “ Nevine snapped back with iron in his voice.

‘Wow, Nevine just snapped too…’ Arcis thought worriedly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her worst case scenario was that the adventurers would catch wind of it and decide they wanted out. No, before that she was nervous having someone else she did not know in her personal space.

“Oi, easy easy, I’m nah sayin’ there’s something wrong with her flyin’ this ship ‘n all,” the woman said, as she walked out from behind the seat, she crouched so she was level with Arcis who, was trying hard not to flinch as she kept her eyes ahead.

“Awh, she’s a dunkin’ pretty and shy,” was the Bruhilde’s appraisal as she chortled.

“What do you mean dunkin’?” Arcis couldn’t help mumbling, if only to show the woman she was not that timid.

“ Ah, she speaks,” Bruhilder cooed, but she switched tack almost immediately and rattled out, “…mmh, dunkin’s when something’s so good you wanna dunk it in a mug of curd milk.” If only to humour her.

‘Good to know I can be dunked in a vat of yoghurt, worse ways to die I suppose,’ Arcis giggled in cathartic release wondering why she’d panicked. Yet the woman’s energy belied her stature; she looked like a homebody, good with kids instead of an adventurer in whatever getup she had on at the time. She gave Nevine a look…

“ Ah, we didn’t tell them everything, “ Nevine shrugged.

“ Nah need, a job’s a job,” Bruhilde waved them off. “ So, is she a dwarf or something? ‘Cause this is no child?” the woman scrunched her brow in confusion. “ Dunno what all these artifacts and runes all over this contraption do but issall something a dwarf would know…wait don’t tell me this is the captain I’ve so ungraciously insulted, “ Bruhilde blanched.

“ Ugh,” Nevine groaned. “It’s a long story, Miss Hilde, the short of it is, we had to come ahead and look for help while the rest went to scout ahead.”

“ There were more of you? That farmer’s kid ain’t one of you though?”

“ Ah, Remus…that’s the survivor whose village we came across.”

“ Hoh?,” Bruhilde said, drawing herself from where she’d crouched on her knees. “ Poor kid must have been through the pits—‘nough maudlin; now this captain of yours seems like someone I wanna meet.” Bruhilde said as she mussed Arcis’ hair.

Arcis smiled as she turned her attention to the canyon ahead of them, they were coming up on the natural bridge. They just had to pass through the open ended cave, hollowed, long ago by water way before the basin in which the town of Gallowick was founded. It reminded her of Heaven’s Gate in the Asian Tianmen Mountains back on Earth― Arthur’s browser history had the most interesting things.

But as they passed underneath, Arcis’ Scan detected a building magical presence, ‘Thaumic reaction!,’

“Incoming!” Arcis yelled in warning and just in time—explosions went off on either side of the escarpments. A shockwave swayed the Stormbreaker as the blast funneled through the narrow canyon, chasing a cloud of dust at its fore. Arcis held fast to the steering yoke as she tried to compensate for the turbulent encounter—while Bruhilde and Nevine held onto the seat for dear life.

In an instant, the hail of rocks, dust and detritus, forming fast moving missiles peppered the windshield in a staccato that sounded like a pneumatic drill going off on concrete. The obsiderite took the punishment, and came out dusty—which was expected, it was used to make dwarven mining goggles after all. But they weren’t out of the woods yet —

Boulders started falling. Shit-house sized chunks of the scarp wall, still sporting vegetation fell through the air in slow motion as though sinking through a viscous fluid. For the occupants on the bridge, it seemed as if time had dilated as their lives flashed before their very eyes—save for one person; Arcis. The synth’s mind had never been so acutely aware as it had been then. Her skills from her class up were already working full kilter.

[Line of Evasion] and [Vector Lock On], skills meant to help her in her eventual use of ranged spells when she finally got something for it, found unorthodox use. [Line of Evasion] calculated a limited number of permutations in which a moving body could get out of her range of fire and the other skill [Vector Lock On] was like some sort of missile lock . She could see the part of the boulders falling and track their movements as though there was a head's up display with a tracking reticle and a trajectory map; it was all in her mind’s eye.

“ Aaaarcis!” Nevine cried out as the Stormbreaker headed for the equivalent of a meteor shower. Bruhilde’s face was grim and stony, a non-sequitur from the woman of a couple pars ago; her massive hands were clenched onto the seat’s headrest, with Nevine squeezed between her biceps

“ I see ‘em—They’re right in front of my face! ” Arcis snapped back; her mind was occupied with of the boulders in her flight path. “And what are you two waiting for?! Strap in!” she yelled. Nevine extricated himself from Bruhilde who, for whatever reason refused to budge grunting something about not running away when children were in the line of fire.

The teenager ran, almost stumbling drunkenly to the passenger’ compartment as the aership began the first of the gut wrenching, teeth jarring aerial maneuvers. They ducked under, banked around and flew over the falling debris that would’ve pinioned the Stormbreaker against the ground.

Some were almost as big as the aership itself but all said, they made it through the encounter. It would have ended there and then, but Arcis had a hunch that it was just the beginning, someone or something had deliberately caused the collapse of the canyon wall and it was premeditated. Which could only mean one thing—dwarves! And as if on cue, artillery spells emerged from the crest of the canyon; the dreaded, amber lances of Mana Seekers.

“ Who in the Pits did we piss off?!” Bruhilde finally broke the silence.

‘It was a smokescreen!’ Arcis swore as she pulled back on the yoke and punched the throttle to its utmost, the airframe rumbled ominously the engine’s dampeners struggled to drown out the vibrations. Arcis watched the thaumometer needle perform one rotation into the red scale—but even that was excruciatingly slow. Arcis leveraged [Line of Evasion] against the Mana Seekers as they came from the front, five of them, all equidistantly deployed like a pentagram.

It wasn’t worth squeezing past them as they could take the hits from all angles ; it need not be said that would have been catastrophic since the Stormbreaker’s hull had never been tested against the artillery spells. They didn’t have an equivalent of chaff to deploy either as the thing with the tellusphere had been a spur of the moment decision. The ship’s bulkheads were still bleeding silver from the last one. There was no telling if the ARACHNE had somehow patched it up—all Arcis could do was pitch the bow down, using the pull of Eryth to gather more speed and take the load off the ship’s pursuit.

Whoever the spell’s originator was very much wanted them down there, boxed on all sides by canyon walls—it was a no brainer. There were tight spaces, more hanging boulders and mesa jutting from the canyon floor, trees hanging stubbornly to the side, some with canopies and branches crossing over and joining in the air—they were absurdly large too. Thus the synth was faced with a very daunting obstacle course that taxed on all her perception skills.

With Mana Seeker’s gaining on them, she did the only thing she could do, she skimmed the surface of the canyon floor so impossibly close she was scraping the brush growth off the ground. Her flight path headed straight for a forest of rock pillars where she hoped the Mana Seeker spells were not as agile in the air as the Stormbreaker was. She was right.

As she crossed the first pillars and suddenly banked hard to port with a hand’s breadth to spare, three of the spells could not turn in time and went slamming onto the rocks, toppling them in a burst of arcane fire. It had been a tight squeeze but Arcis’ Scan working in tandem with [Line of Evasion] gave her the upper hand, telling her when the space would be too narrow. Now she had to lose three—

“ Haha, look at her go,” Doladraen cackled with mirth as he watched the Stormbreaker’s evasive maneuvers. He had in hand, a scrying slate attuned to his sighter’s scrying crystals. Unlike the Guild’s however, the one he had was more practical for surveillance. It did not need mana dense areas like dungeons to form a connection with its companion when they had the armacus type II to form a bridge between the two—another dwarven marvel of magitech. Unlike their taller Erythean counterparts, dwarves were not magically gifted in other affinities apart from Ter and Pyr.

Some did get Aqer but those were few and far between, perhaps those who lived in cities near subterranean water bodies. The thing is, being locked out of other affinities meant they had to make do with magitech for their affinities that did not allow scrying—a valuable magic in for surveillance, though it was basically antique at that point.

When they’d begun the operation they’d wanted to probe at the Stormbreaker’s capabilities before committing to a boarding. It was highly maneuverable, more so than the Messerkopv class Sturmjager with her twin winged mana sails. Taking it down using grounding harpoons was an exercise in futility. What grounding harpoons did was, suddenly increase the weight of the targeted area once they’d been triggered.

And the trigger mechanism was merely boring into and lodging in the hull of a targeted ship. Grounding runes were easy to replicate, after all, dwarves were the fore experts in the Ter affinity. Even their ship decks had the stuff, dwarves knew the importance of having the ground under you even when the wind was blowing hard in the sky, sometimes using wind shielding enchantments while in motion could drain a vessel’s aertherite crystals.

That said, with grounding harpoons out of the question, they had proposed an alternative to boarding the aership without slowing down—by using Orbs of Waymarking and Lesser Teleport. Two of a pair, they were meant to be used in conjunction for short hops to a premarked place, hence the orb of waymarking. They were less of a hassle to use compared to Scrolls of Lesser Teleport, which could, on occasion, fail because the runes had degraded.

As the Stormbreaker passed through the labyrinth of pinnacles left behind after water erosion, Eatrude was standing by for a lesser teleport. Five of the Sturmjager’s own crew stood beside her, decked in wands, crossbows and enchanted leather cuirasses and chainmail hoods.

They were armored lightly, heavy armor had no place in a rush job. Another dwarf, Badir the [Arbalester] was sighting from their vantage point with a bunch of strange arrows. One had a vial with dark frothing liquid after its arrow head while another, was an oddly shaped arrow with grabbing hooks; the delivery mechanism for the orb of Waymarking.

“ Deploy the night fog,” came the message on their armacus. Eatrude felt her blood roar in anticipation of the action to come; she would be disappointed if the Stormbreaker’s semblance of a crew failed to put up resistance. They waited for their quarry. And the Stormbreaker cleared the forest of rock pillars standing in the midst of the canyon, somehow managing to lose all but one of the Mana Seeker’s which dissipated as soon as its cooldown elapsed. No sooner had it made its appearance than the Sturmjager’s [Arbalester] took aim and fired onto the deck.

“[Seeker Shot]! [Delayed Activation: Nightfog]!” The [Arbalester] fired off his skills. His aim was true and not less than a couple of caion’s later, a dark fog fell over the canyon and the Stormbreaker flew right into it. Not even its obsiderite windshield would’ve helped them see through that curtain of dark smoke as thick as the ink of a vanta squid.

“[Seeker Shot]! [Delayed Activation: Orb of Waymark]!” followed soon after. Eatrude smiled as she tapped her Orb of Lesser Teleport and the world twisted. In the ensuing pandemonium caused by the impenetrable cloud of fog, nobody on board had the awareness of mind to realize that an Orb of Waymarking had thunked onto their deck. The boarding had begun!