World Tree MUSH

 The Kingdom of Elisa is relatively small country, with a benevolent King, strong knightly orders, and studies into the arcane allowing it the boon of ships that cut through the sky as well as other pseudo-technological perks that make living here a joy. 

 Aside from the monsters and occasional incursion from other military powers. Today's particular incursion is from offworld it seems. Two days ago the black-and-red airship known as the Ventus limped it's way into the airspace near a stone-walled fort set upon a tall hill overlooking a valley. To those sensitive, or with the ability to scan, for magic the large dark-blue 'lake' in the middle of the fort is in fact a dense lake of concentrated mana that helps power the Kingdom's many conveniences. 

 Looming in the sky, the Ventus dwarfs the two airships of the Kingdom that comes to hail it. As large as a naval destroyer, small winglets help keep it aloft, the thing glowing reds and blues along it's sides. It's relatively flat, at least until one gets to the bulbous head at the front. It's sides bristle with anti-air cannons. 

 Negotiations quickly break down. In the Garleans' defence, the Elisans fire first, albeit a warning shot. The Ventus' guns prove superior. 

 Now, the Ventus is on the ground amidst a small base camp the Garleans have set up. Multiple Reaper magitek armours are arrayed defensively, along with temporary lodgings have been quickly erected. It's not a permanent Castrum, but the structures set down as the metal equivalent of tents. Soldiers with guns, and more commonly spears or swords, patrol the camp while keeping an eye on the fort above. 

 A long magitek rifle at rest under her armpit, Suka descends the long ramp from the Ventus. A floating metallic sphere follows her even as she's flanked by two bodyguards, one with a magitek staff and the other a glowing tower shield and sword. Her free hand flicks through a datapad. Up the little sphere goes. 

 "This is your last chance! Surrender your supplies and fuel reserves, or we will turn your fort to rubble!" Comes Suka's voice loudly through the magical drone. 

 Up on the walls, flanked by soldiers and archers, a man in full plate twirls his long white mustache. A paladin of one of Elisa's orders, he has a scowl on his face. 

 "The White Ram Order will not surrender to plunderers and Imperialists! Come take it from us!" He offers confidently. The drone is then quickly hammered into by several magical arrows. The thing is resiliant for it's size, but it's simply a scouting one. It explodes as it's struck by a well aimed fire arrow. 

 Suka sighs, and shakes her head. "...Ignorant savages." Her tone is pitying. She starts to bark orders into her comms, flicking her goggles' feed into a tactical view. 

 Down below, four of the Reaper armour turn their main guns at maximum angle, and fire. Light shots, given the range. Luckily for the defenders, the Reapers would be cumberson climbing the steep hill on which the fort is placed. Some of the shots smash into the walls, gouging them or hitting small cadres of soldiers. Mages are on hand to provide shielding, but already it's clear who has the superior force. 

 That is, of course, why as both sides take potshots with ranged units on each other, the paladin of the White Rams is turning to the offworlders he's beseeched for help. 

 "Reinforcements won't arrive for four days. Most of my men are green, nevermind if that beastwoman decides to use the guns on her airship." He spits on the ground, contempt clear in his voice. 

 The Ventus itself looks ragged, with several clear signs of damage that's been patchworked together. The soldiers of the Garleans aren't looking much better, exhausted and some even injured. Desperate fighting men and women, for better or worse.

The call for help reached Temulin by fortune or fate, but she's here. The mercenary clad in her usual armor, already riding her bird. She's done a quick recon flight, far enough away to not put herself in too much danger, a few close encounters with Garlean fire, and now she's here to report. "Looks like a Garlean contingent. They make heavy use of magitek to compensate for their inborn weakness."

"Be careful, while they may be stranded here and cut off from the Empire, their Empire stretches across three continents and their imperialist expansion has been quelled only by civil war sparked from the unexpected passing of the emperor. If they aren't cut off, there will be more." Temulin pauses a bit as considers what else to add and settles for, "They have a history of steeping to severe measures in the face of setbacks, but they are by no means invincible. They should fall to a coordinated assault. I recommend that I'll distract the airship so the others can make a ground assault."%

    There is a third contender in these unfriendly skies. The small airship that dodges and weaves Royal Elisan airships is definitely not of either Elisan or Garlean make. The Strahl's lines are sleek and smart, trailing cyan light from the horizontal rings at each end of the ship; wings unfolded, she's brutally fast, but she's also damaged.
    Scars mar the faded orange detailing, and obscure completely the violet ornamentation dyed into the steel of the hull; ragged black scoring raking along one flank suggests she had an altercation with a royal guard patrol. By the time she whips past the clearing the Ventus lies aground in, she's trailing thick, acrid black smoke and the tortured scream of her engine proves beyond a doubt she had the short end of an aerial brawl.
    Then there comes a distant, basso roar as the Strahl meets the earth. There isn't an explosion, so it must have been a controlled landing. Sort of.
    Silence.
    The clearing around the paladin of the White Rams is quiet. Too quiet, in fact.
    And then one of his guards is sprouting a long, feathered arrow shaft from the middle of his torso. It is very large. It was fired by a bow that must have a monstrously strong pull. Therefore, it must have been fired by someone with horrifying size or strength. Or size and strength. The shafts are smooth and black, and the feathers are striped black and grey.
    Scarcely does his comrades have time to stare than a second one of them sprouts another arrow.
    There's nobody in sight, but the angle suggests there's someone in the trees... and one of them is rustling.
    Yet if they shoot at it or charge over to look, it's already empty of anyone, leaves still quivering. 

>> SUMMARY[Balthier] >> The Strahl just went down over there somewhere. White Rams guards are dropping like flies, shot by big long arrows by Somebody Very Sneaky.

As if the Kingdom of Elisa didn't have enough problems this night, there is an ominous bank of clouds looming over the opposite horizons.

And upon those clouds, partially disguised from the ground below by them, sails another great airship. Easily as grand in size as the Ventus but closer in resemblence to older styles of vessles, other than the clearly metallic rather than wooden hull and the large turbine props that drive it closer to the fortress.

"Avast! Target *SQUACK* on approach!" There's a pause as the parrot in the watchout squints into his spyglass a bit longer. "There already be *WARK* a fight brewing!"

"... Really?" Renya steps over to a railing and pulls out her own spyglass and turns it towards the fort. "Well don't that beat all." The vixen shrugged a little as she shifted her gaze towards the encampment the other attack was coming from. "Don't reconize the make of those scallawags... But all the more oppritunity for us." Renya lowered the spyglass and clicked on her bonavox. "Captain to helm. Bring us 'bout at assault speed, and lay down the broadside!"

As it's bow finally pierced through it's cloudy cover the Polar Vortex swung her magestice form to port, slicing a curve through the sky until her side started to come aligned with the fortress. Several steam-pressure driven cannons protruded from their ports as it did and opened fire, mainly aiming at the fortress walls but caring not what else may fall in the range of collateral damage.

Why would Captain Rhimehart be interested in this place? Probably the same reasons everyone else is. Any technology that works like their own that they can take for themselves is good.

The last time Anna fought an airship was before she could transform. Now, of course, she's arrived transformed. "Ground assault it is," she says, nodding to Temulin. "I think we -- huh?"

She blinks in surprise as the Strahl appears and then crashes, and then ... starts sniping. "Oh for crying out loud ..."

And then they get another attack, this time from the Ventus. "OH COME ON!"

Welp. Well, she's only one magical girl, so she ... just goes with the original target, which is the Garleans. She zips forward at superhuman speeds surrounded by a pale blue glow, zigzagging to make herself harder to hit, and lobbing off blasts of Heart Power more-or-less at random -- mostly towards the infantry, but there's one towards the Ventus and another towards the recently-vacated tree near the Strahl.

 The leader of the White Rams nods to Temulin with resignation as she finishes her recon. He briefly squints at the mercenary, eyeing her horns and tail in particular, but is a bit too polite to openly insult an ally for it. 

 "Then I leave the aerial maneuvers to you. That ship destroyed our only two airships, so be careful." Comes the paladin gruffly to nearly the point of rudeness. At least the man's done the courtesy of paying half of Temulin's price already. 

 Swiftly however, even before the true assault is ordered, the White Rams have problems. The downed Strahl is at first a curiousity. Another airship here that is of unknown origin. Yet once it's down, those horrific arrows are plucking at the Rams' leader's men with accuracy that is uncanny. A credit to his men, their own mixture of archers and mages are raining lightning bolts and arrows-slash-bolts where that tree last rustled. 

 No one yet goes over the top, per se, to meet the small army below. Instead a small cluser of mages moves as one to confront the treeline down below in that particular section of the valley. 

 The paladin up top doesn't need to issue orders. He just waves his sword aloft. 

 The Elisans might be a peaceful sort generally, but they love their country. Hence this team of magi launching a similarly unhealthy amount of fireballs towards the foliage below. They have a simply divine angle from up on those walls, even if they're still exposed. 

 The general clatter upon the walls, however, has both the lake itself filled with delicious magic-juice as well as the well-stocked armory and treasury substantially less guarded. Each are manned by halberd-wielding soldiers with a healer each. Some of them sigh in relief, at being away from the beginnings of a pitched battle. 

 The arrival, and subsequent shelling by, Renya's ship is both dramatic and powerful. Her shots hammer straight into part of the wall, luckily /away/ from where the Garleans had made camp. The second volley is less successful, as the White Rams bring their defensive mages to bare. Shots are met by magical shields. Mages die with every broadside, but at least the fort only has two major wounds at this point. 

 Suka knows a complication when it arises, and so the first thing she does is call for a fellow magitek specialist for an ampliphier for her communications system. A duel with another airship is the last thing she can afford. And as much as it makes her grind her teeth, she has to think of her men first before pride. 

 With perhaps a rather blunt burst of magitek communications aimed towards the Polar Vortex, Suka is playing grounded Captain. 

 "Friend or foe, unknown aerial assault ship! This is Centurio Suka Tabito, Fourteenth Legion of Garlemald and Captain of the Ventus. A coordinated seizure of this installation will result in far less bloodshed for both of our crews." Her voice is young, quiet, and projects calm should her transmission reach. She feels far less so in her heart. 

 "It would not be done without compensation, of course." Her voice here is a little stiff. Every part of her wants to open up on the piratical vessel. Yet, her men before pride. She /needs/ this fuel and the supplies within. 

 By now, both sides have started the assault proper. Suka's infantry charge up the hill, in phalanx formation accompanied by defensive magitek mages. The White Rams' soldiers begin to pour out of the fort as well to meet them half way. The Garleans are outnumbered, but between spells and soldiers using speed-enhancing and shield spells, they're evenly matched. 

 At least until the heavy armour below starts to train their guns on the infantry. Suka's subordinates coordinate efficient strikes. Slowly, the White Rams are being beaten back into their own fortress, aided by the chaos above. 

 The glowing form of Anna is an unseen cavalry amidst the increasingly dire circumstances. Multiple members of the Garlean phalanx advancing are caught off guard. The White Rams are less than merciful about using the opening brought by

 The glowing form of Anna is an unseen cavalry amidst the increasingly dire circumstances. Multiple members of the Garlean phalanx advancing are caught off guard. The White Rams are less than merciful about using the opening brought by the magical girl, and are on the infantry in a moment. Back further down the hill, there's a small hail of gunfire being directed /right/ at Anna...rather than the Rams. The cascade of retreating Rams is halted, the young woman's superhuman speed helping a pause in the battle. Anna's blasts crash into the Ventus...and blacken it's plating, but otherwise seems to do little damage. The ship is no pushover, proper Garlean military grade stuff. Whatever it ran into previously must have been horrifying. 

 Still, it's looking to be grueling for both sides given how complicated the battlefield is looking.

 
Temulin is fine with gruff and to the point, and she can ignore looks of disdain or distrust easily. So, she listens and nods, and when the plan is agreed to takes to the skies. New elements are a complication, but she's not being paid to deal with them, she's being paid to deal with the Garleans. The massive bird takes to the sky and zips towards the Garlean encampment, flying past whatever walls they have erected and zipping close to the ground, blade wreathed in darkness as she seeks to cut down any soldiers in her way.

"Sons of Garlemald, go back home and huddle in the cold where your inferior kind belongs." She yells, "Or I will shower in your blood." Temulin taunts the Garleans, trying to get them to pay attention to her. She accompanies this by sending a few blasts of dark magic flying towards wounded soldiers trying to get away from her. She's not here to play nice, she's here to drive off the Garleans.

>> SUMMARY[Temulin Dotharl] >> Temulin uses 'Provoke' and 'Ultimatum' in between some dark arts.

    Leaves rustle where the Elisan patrol of archers and lightning-wielding mages fire on the boughs, and arrows continue to snap out at them from between the leaves. Whoever's doing the running and the shooting must have superhuman agility, considering they also have to balance while they're running and shooting.
    It's not immortal, though, whatever it is. There's a curt yowl from the branches as one of the arrows finds its mark, and a spatter of blood to stain the tree trunk. The shape pushes on, though, concealed by leaves; leaping and sprinting like a deer among the boughs.
    Over on the other side of the clearing, there is a rustling of leaves.
    Balthier strides from the branches, casual as one pleases, rifle slung casually over one shoulder. His expression is bland and bored as he rolls to a halt near the Captain of the White Rams. Despite his being outnumbered and not even bristling weaponry, he is shockingly casual and unconcerned. Either he's touched in the head or he's one phenomenal actor. The sky pirate tilts his head to regard the captain.
    "I never would have expected a bauble like that to spark quite so many tempers." The sky pirate sighs, head tilting, a gesture of exasperation. "My regards to your pilots. I can't say I was expecting them to match the Strahl. Quite surprising, really. I'm afraid you'd best get used to the idea of that bauble being gone, though, friend. In the scuffle, I seem to remember your men took something that doesn't exactly belong to them." Those hazel eyes are cold as he eyes the captain, mouth thinning.
    Is he crazy? Suicidal? Or really that cunning? He doesn't seem to fret at all about being in the middle of a hostile enemy camp. "Don't even think about threatening me, either. I'm afraid my partner doesn't have much of a sense of humour. She's like to feel threatened by any shows of force. And I trust her ability to stay just ahead of your men more than I trust the ability of your men to catch her. "
    His eyes slide past the captain, though, both brows arching at the progress of the chaos already cropping up around them.

>> SUMMARY[Balthier] >> Fran is going to need a Band-Aid. Balthier attempts to negotiate with the Captain of the White Rams. Probably at gunpoint.

It might just be because the bonavox devices work on a principle very close to magitek but the communication actually gets through to the gadget in Renya's other hand rather easily. She hmms thoughtfully as she listens, and raises a hand to gesture to the lookout. He's still got his spyglass out, and turns it for a closer look at the encampment, and eventually squacks down "They do look a bit roughshod *kaw* down there, Cap'n!"

Renya considers this a moment, then thumbs the dial to switch back to her shipboard signal. "Gunners, lower ye fire a wee. Focus on the fort and keep it's defenders occupied. Don't shoot the other attackers." This unfamiliar captain is right, they all get more out of this than if they tried to shoot down each other as well... And she has no interest in those already in a desolate state. That would be unfitting of a pirate of her caliber!

She thumbs the device back to the signal the communique from the ground came on. "Captain Rhimehart of the Polar Vortex accepts ye kind offer of cooperation."

The magic shields do a really good job of weathering the cannon shots. Even when another, more focused volley comes as the cannoneers focus soley on the fort's defenses now. Holding those magic barriers up will deplete the mage's resources, and keep some attention away from the other forces also harassing the fortress.

One might also note that the shots are being aimed so if they do damage a wall, the force topples it outward instead of inward. Don't want to damage the plunder waiting inside, after all!

Renya clicked back to the shipboard channel. "Have the raiding party ready, as soon as there's an openin' in those shield-mages' we're goin' landside."

Anna's thoughts right now: 'Wow, I'm getting shot at!' With a side of, 'I'm pretty sure I'm breaking the promise I made to my parents to stay out of greater danger than the Curse Phantoms offer!'

Some of the shots even graze her, too. It's hard to see with the corona around her, but there's a flicker of light around her like a briefly visible shield, brightest around her dress. Bullets are a bit more than her Heart Costume's shields can handle, and the dress earns a few tears, Anna gaining a few grazes in the process.

She knows she can't keep this up forever, though, if everyone's shooting at her, and she zigzags much more wildly in something of a retreat. She's still firing blasts of Heart Power, though -- it's just, well, even more wild and random now, and only aimed at whatever infantry seem to be the most immediate threat.

 Temulin's diving charge is met with a multitude of responses. The infantry she carves into are unfortunately scythed down like wheat, between the darkness on her blade and the pure velocity of her bird's descent. Her dark elemental blasts are less effective, one or two of those staff-wielding Garleans managing to bring up spells just in time to ward off the worst effects. 

 A few of the greener members of the Garleans seem ready to break. Some are shouted down or cuffed by their superiors. Suka's face grows more mask-like by the second. She waves to a passing soldier. 

 After a moment, her rifle has a lovely scope attached to it. She brings it up calmly to her shoulder as she traces Temulin's path in the air. Beneath her goggles, eyes narrow. 

 "...Unacceptable. Glory to the sons and daughters of Garlemald." Her voice is a whisper, but her comms carry it to the ears of her men. 

 Her shots are neat, and accurate. She's not aiming for the rider, but instead trying to tear through Temulin's mounts' wings with magic-infused ammo. Fire in this case. One of the Reapers below turns, and fires a single shot of it's main cannon at her as well! 

 Luckily for a woods-covered not-deer, Balthier's partner isn't harried by more arrows and lightning bolts for the moment. Spying blood, and when the arrows stop? Half of their number are rushing to reinforce the chaos below. The defenders, split on multiple fronts, can only pay attention to so many threats at once. 

 More pressingly, the leading man himself shows up before the Captain. The man turns after barking more orders to the soldiers below. His personal guard is...well, much diminished at this point. Two of them back up, shields at the ready, the loyal fools. The Captain's own sword starts to glow a bright white as he focuses his own magic. A scowl is deep on his face as he turns to the charismatic sky pirate! 

 "....So you're a thief, hmm? I heard the rumors about a madman stealing from the treasury." Every part of this man's body wants to remove Balthier's head, but with an audible grunt, he keeps his head. "And you know what? I would've been happy to let you rip off some overstarched noble's get of his things. But the /Queen/? A Paladin won't let you insult her, or you and your friend hurt my men! I'll start with you first, then your precious 'partner'!" Then the Captain is, perhaps unwisely, launching straight for Balthier. The man clearly isn't listening here! Shield up defensively, holy paladin light shining, the man seems intent to indeed strike the sky pirate down! 

 Leaving, of course, his subordinates to direct the defenses. Renya's piratical fire hammers down. Slowly, the fortifications are breaking. Just as she suspects, every now volley is met with a weaker and weaker shield as mages exhaust themselves or are otherwise killed. Many of the mages formerly harrying Fran are now concentrating lightning bolts towards Renya's ship! Not exactly powerhouses individually, these mages are soldiers. Their combined firepower is a decent enough anti-air force...as long as they can keep it up! 

 Anna's assault still takes out many Imperials, hammered down by her speed or otherwise taken out by her Heart Power! Yet as she starts to retreat, the line shores up. The remaining infantry are either dragging the wounded back to camp, or push the assault. 

 Finally, the line breaks. The White Rams start to retreat back to the safety of the fortress even as chunks of it's walls shatter from concentrated Reaper fire. One of the soldiers hurriedly shouts at the blurr that is Anna! 

 "The mana lake! The lake! It's what they're after!" Then...he's lighting a torch, and starting to charge towards that massive font of magical energy. 

 "For Elisa!" This could be a problem.

 
Denhes is not a barely trained riding animal, nor is Denhes a herbivore. Denhes is a well-trained war beast, and Denhes is a bird of pray. The fire from the rifle scorches the side of one of the bird's wings, but though it's a painful blow it's not a crippling one and this accomplishes one thing. Bird and rider alike have eyes for only one person.

"They will never accept you as a child of Garlemald, daughter of Azim." Temulin answers as she approaches, "For you will never stop reminding them of their weakness, and they will always hate you for it." Her voice is calm, but full of anger. "Glory to the children of Nhaama. Glory to the Dotharl." Temulin is circling around Suka in the air as she speaks, Denhes moving quickly enough to make it hard to get a clean shot, and all the while Temulin is cladding her blade in further darkness. "Traitor to your own. Die like the fool you are." And then, she strikes, enough dark power in that blade to break through a Reaper and kill the pilot, and yet have energy to spare.

>> SUMMARY[Temulin Dotharl] >> Banter, then soul eater.

    The sky pirate allows himself the indulgence of a sigh so exasperated it seems almost charmingly theatrical. He shakes his head at the captain's observation. "Your mistakes are twofold, I'm afraid. First, you sold me short." Something cold flickers in his eyes. "I'm a sky pirate, not a skulking common thief. And the idiots under your command forgot all about my partner, over yonder."
    "You'd probably best listen to what I have to say--"
    And then the Paladin is yammering about duty and honour and all that rot. Balthier sighs again, but this time it's laced with a sight more irritation than the last.
    "Well, I did give the oafs under your command the option to surrender, earlier. Not very pragmatic of them, you know." Balthier's rifle whips down from its position on his shoulder. "I was going to let you walk away from this without shooting at you, but I'm afraid the skyship's left the aerodrome on that one."
    Yet there is a bizarre stillness about him as he watches the Captain of the White Rams charge his way. He doesn't even seem to react, hazel eyes still, body language loose and limber. He waits until it almost seems he's waited too long--
    --and then the man leaps forward in a rolling dodge away from the man, although not without a vanishingly narrow pass from that sword. There's a thin line of red through his forearm, a tiny bit of blood staining the crisp white silk of his sleeve.
    Balthier frowns at it as he straightens, patting dust from his vest. When he glances back to the Paladin, the line of his mouth thins in evident distaste.
    "Hard though it may be to believe, I really don't want to kill you. I'm already late for an appointment, and you, friends, are making me quite unforgiveably late. One hardly says no to a queen, does he?" Balthier is beginning to sound just a shade impatient. The rifle raises and emits a tiny click as the firing mechanism readies; there is a surge of what must be magick from the thing, priming the shot to give it supernatural force. A magitech rifle. How quaint. "My partner has her bow fixed on your position, Ser Knight, so I strongly suggest that you put that blade down. I can put it down for you... but something tells me you aren't going to like that very much."
    "Now. I do believe we still have one last outstanding issue to address." The sky pirate is dancing backward and away from that sword; he recognises, perhaps, what a deadly weapon it can be in the hands of a trained master. "You've something of mine. Return it. I saw you take it; my eyes are sharper than yours, friend, or my name's not Balthier."
    There's a short pause, and he glances back to the treeline, only briefly.
    "Fran." His tone is one of aggrieved exasperation. "Honestly. Are you going to make me do everything myself?"
    There's no answer from the trees, and it's hard to say whether he seems to expect one or not. In the meantime, his attention is thoroughly occupied by the Paladin.

>> SUMMARY[Balthier] >> Balthier is tanking the Captain of the White Rams like a champ. But wait, he's only a physical support class, not a tank! Fran is suspiciously quiet.

Lightning spells crackle against the Polar Vortex's visage. As using storms for cover is a standard practice of her captain she has some shielding against electrical shocks, but lightning of the magic variety is a bit more focused and directed that nature's tantrum and is better at least getting partially past. Most of the cannon ports slam shut in and effort to keep the hands working within from getting severely electrocuted.

The cannons already did their job though and the magic shields are severely weakened. Now was the time to make the real strike.

Renya appears at the edge of the deck, one boot up on the railing as she holds her calisabre high. "For plunder and glory, me hartys!" And then leaps over the deck. Followed by a sizable number of pirates of various species. A couple of avians use their wing-like arms to glide, while Renya and the others deploy small gliders to decent onto the fortress walls. The other pirates promptly spread out to engage the remaining defenders and make sure the mages don't get those shields back up.

Renya on the other hand discards the glider and uses her parkour skills to actually run the edge of the wall a bit before vaulting over and trying to find her way across whatever structures there may be to find her way farther into the fortifications.

>> SUMMARY[Renya Rimehart] >> It's not another ship, but pirates are pirates and a raiding party is still a raiding party.

Anna dodges this way and that, grumbling! "Ohhh jeez ..."

And then she blinks as the man calls out to her. "What?" she says. "... WAIT NO, ARE YOU TRYING TO BLOW UP THE LAKE!? HOW MUCH COLLATERAL DAMAGE WILL THAT CAUSE!?" Suddenly, the blue glow is rocketing towards the runner with the torch. She doesn't actually know what kind of explosion it'll cause, but visions of mushroom clouds are dancing in her head, and she slows down enough to tackle him to the ground without actually hurting him.

 Suka's head tilts. It's a bare fraction of a degree or two, but a significant one. Temulin offers an answer in words that strikes towards the Centurio harder than any weapon has a right to. In part, she knows Temulin is right. That her dear Garleans won't see her as anything less than a beast and lesser citizen for all her talents. 

 "Unamusing. You call me a traitor to my people. I may have horns and a tail, and lack the third eye...I learned how to shoot from a Garlean. I was fed by, raised, and protected by Garleans. I know the discipline and magitek of Garlemald. Dotharl. Azim. May both burn by our guns!" Teeth grit. Her eyes widen. 

 Then Suka /moves/! She drops her rifle, instead going for one of her revolvers. She can't stop Temulin's charge, black-clad magic carving through Reaper and pilot alike. Her heart skips a beat as another of her soldiers die. Shots miss, barely, before Temulin breaks through! 

 The Centurio lets out a breath, and tries to project a calm look. She utterly fails, tears falling down her cheek. The young Garlean officer has tasted her first losses in combat, and they're bitter. 

 Her shots from her side arms are accurate and swift. Down goes the butt of a revolver, and the tip of a blade carves through it, only for her to fall to a knee. Suka's shoulder is a bloody, darkness-staved mess. With a howl of rage, the normally quiet mechanist pushes to her feet, and fires angrily at the retreating sky-bound adventurer! 

 Slice! Balthier proves as fluid as he is cunning, and the Captain of the White Rams holds his sword up high. That gun clicks, and the man wisely stands still. His eyes narrow, knowing well what a magitek rifle sounds like. Not a weapon to be underestimated. And the man has a tongue made of pure fluid silver! 

 A deep sucking breath, and pride gutters out against practicality. He reaches into his coat...and throws something towards Balthier! 

 It's a glowing, gold-and-blue key. A key to a very specific box locked up in the royal archive. Given to this particular Captain for being /very/ away from the nobles and royal family, just in case. 

 He's a military man though. 

 "Take it. As much as I would enjoy putting your head on a pike, my men come first. Go play with the Royal Guard all you like. Die by them, for all I care!" He huffs, and turns away. 

 Renya and crew properly end the fighting. They land upon the walls, ending the mages and arches' fire down upon the Garleans. The Garleans therefore further push their advantage despite their losses, the twin attacks of pirates and soldiers pushing the White Rams into pure surrender, or utter defeat. Renya herself would cut down a dozen soldiers, before finding her way towards the treasure house itself. 

 Anna's words don't seem to catch the soldier, even if they are entirely true. And indeed, her speed manages to catch him just in time! The torch falls barely short of lighting the lake itself on fire. He reaches desperately for it...only to then find his pocket. 

 Anna first is given a soldierly boot to the face, followed by a match. It won't light up the whole lake, at least. 

 The Captain of the White Rams wisely calls for an evacuation as the girl's loud voice points him to what has just happened. Suddenly the world explodes, as the fort expands outwards... 

 Only half-way, thank goodness. The Lake itself sizzles as a full half of it's contents explodes, and Garleans and White Rams alike sear. The Ventus is already into the sky. But not leaving. 

 Most of their salvage is gone, thanks to the heroes that assembled, but perhaps something of value can be had. Suka, retreating to her ship, clutches to her Darkness-bleeding shoulder as proof of the pain inflicted today!

Anna oofs as she gets kicked in the face. "Hey y--" And then her eyes go wide as the match goes forth. She books it out of there at top speed.

She's still close enough, though, that the shockwave from the explosion sends her sprawling. Her Heart Costume's shield flickers once again, before collapsing completely. "... ouch," she groans, her voice sounding noticeably less feminine for the moment.

"What the bloody hell was in that lake?" Clearly it had not been her objective at least if Renya wasn't aware of it's real nature.

Nor does it really matter. She's got the treasure house, even if a few things have already been taken. Though not much in the way of salvage of equipment due to the explosion, alas. Hate when they opt for 'if we can't have it no one will'.

Weapon kept in one hand as she shakes some blood off lightly, Renya retrieves her bonavox from a pocket of her greatcoat and flicks it back on. First to get the deckhands down here to loot what they can from the treasure. Then to order someone to keep an eye on the other airship(s).

Got to keep your eyes open, friends and foe tend to be the same thing in this line of work.

That and she's just curious who the other captain was.

    "That's more like it." Balthier manages to sound appropriately mollified as the key is tossed his way. He reaches out to catch it, metal clinking against the rings on his fingers, which chime like semiprecious stone. The leading man allows the corner of his mouth to quirk. "Wise choice, Ser Paladin."
    He tosses the key up, its satin ribbon trailing, and catches it, tucking it into the interior pocket of his vest.
    "Are you satisfied now, sky pirate?"
    The voice that calls to Balthier is a woman's, exotically-inflected; tone scratchy and smoky. Fran lands in a three-point crouch beneath the boughs closest to him, ears swivelling back as she watches the White Rams stand down. Her bow is still in hand, and an arrow half-strung, red-brown eyes locked on the retreating knights with the languid yet alert air of a jungle predator.
    "I am, as a matter of fact." Balthier is watching them, too, but he folds his arms in evident nonchalance. He waits right like that until they turn their backs on them, and at that point, both sky pirates back away. "Have you heard any details from Nono?"
    "He has the Strahl up again. It's time to go."
    "Right on the mark, as always."
    "Someone has to be."
    "You wound me, wayward rabbit."
    "Foolish hume-child."
    "Last one aboard the Strahl pays for the madhu," Balthier offers, glancing back to the retreating Paladins. "Do those terms sound reasonable?"
    Silence.
    "Fran...?"
    Nothing. His gaze slides sideways.
    There is no viera there.
    The sky pirate exhales through his nose in exasperation, realising a moment later that the viera is legitimately long gone. "...Gods, I hate it when she does that." And so, unless someone stops him, he'll make his way back to the ship with one hand in his trouser pocket, and one hand holding the rifle slung casually over his shoulder. "I suppose it was a foregone conclusion that the first round's on me... well. The leading man must needs be generous, after all."

>> SUMMARY[Balthier] >> Balthier reclaims his reappropriated treasury vault key. Exit stage right, with sky pirate banter.