The Silver Sphinx

 

“Where do I go to see the Blood War?”

Anonymous Clueless

 

 

Second Void Day of Savorus, 126 HR

Krystall stood on the deck of the flying storm barracuda, letting her dark brown hair flutter in the wind. “Deck” was actually not quite the right term for it when she thought about it. The dome-topped structure on the back of the flying fish looked more like a tower house than a ship's deck. She had stepped onto the balcony that stretched around the top floor, where a dining room and kitchen were located, where Blackhoof was currently making some noise. Zamakis was one floor below, where they had darkened all the windows in one of the bedrooms so that the vampire could stay there safely during the day. In another room, Rakalla was mixing a few of her alchemical grenades. Krixxi was piloting the barracuda from the dome of the small tower, while Figaro was once again tinkering with the gears of the flying machine in the belly of the fish. Meanwhile, Krystall had come to the conclusion that this was nothing to worry about, but that the two mechanics were simply enjoying trying to improve the barracuda's propulsion. Therefore, she was leaning relatively relaxed against the balcony railing. By now , she was relaxed. The departure from Xaos, on the other hand, had been anything but calm. While trying to get the barracuda up into the air, Krixxi and Figaro had encountered some technical difficulties after all. The main propulsion system had apparently not worked quite as desired. The goblin woman had mentioned something about a stuck converter gear. When Figaro added some uplift crystals that didn't react as expected, Blackhoof had almost disembarked. It took a lot of persuasion from Krystall and Rakalla to calm the minotaur and allay his fear of flying enough to persuade him to stay on the barracuda. But that hadn't been all. Zamakis had alerted them to another problem: a group of Xaos mercenaries had approached their vehicle, apparently intending to board it. After a brief conversation, shouted back and forth between the dusty steppe landscape below and the tower on the barracuda above, it had become clear that the Chaos Engineers from whom Krixxi had rented the flying fish apparently owed someone a debt. And that someone wanted the barracuda as payment. The mercenaries had been little interested in the fact that they had already paid the jink for a longer flight in full. Since the group had not been willing to give up the aircraft, a fight had been inevitable. Krixxi had immediately dashed to the engine room and tried to disengage the gears, while Figaro had readjusted the uplift crystals. Blackhoof had quickly pulled up the ladder and Krystall and Zamakis had taken up position next to him, ready to fight off the mercenaries in case they came up. But when they approached, Rakalla had hurled down a potion that had created a dense wall of smoke on impact. The mercenaries thus had been blinded and disoriented, giving Krixxi the time she needed. Just in time before the smoke had cleared, she had managed to set the gears in motion and Figaro had activated the uplift crystals. With a mighty jolt, the barracuda had taken off just as the first mercenary had tried to climb into it through the mouth. After the upsetting start, however, the flight had been much smoother, and so Krystall now stood relaxed on the balcony of the tower, letting her gaze wander over the wide plain below. For many primes, the Outlands were an environment that was both familiar and completely alien. They reminded them more of prime worlds than other planes, but the landscapes here were more spacious and varied, the colors more vibrant and the sky wider and more expressive. Krystall herself, although born on a prime world, could not judge this from her own experience. She had come to Sigil at the age of four and had never returned to her home world since. But her parents, who had come to the planes as adults, had described it as if one were entering a painting that came to life, full of wonders and dangers at the same time. Nevertheless, there were comparatively many primes living in the Outlands, as they seemed relatively familiar compared to other planes. They weren't as strictly regulated by laws as Mechanus or as chaotically wild as Limbo, nor as bleak as the Gray Wastes or as overwhelming as Celestia. The balance and neutrality of the Outlands were quite attractive for those who found the extremes of other planes too staggering. And integration often went more smoothly than on other planes, because the Outlands inherently accepted diversity. Perhaps, Krystall thought, her parents would have settled in the Outlands better than they had ever managed in Sigil. They had even considered moving there – plans that had been rendered moot by their premature death. Their premature and violent death, which had plunged a girl of sixteen at the time into a deep hole. But these were dark memories of a time that was fortunately behind her. And so the leader of the Razor Angels quickly shook them off and turned her gaze to the lavender-colored sky instead. This morning, at least, it was a delicate purple. The sky over the Outlands was not just blue; it changed through a kaleidoscope of colors, reflecting the myriad moods of the planes. Sometimes it was bright green, at other times it was a strong purple red, but sometimes it was blue like on many prime worlds. It depended which way the planar winds were blowing. Over the course of a yearly cycle, the philosophical winds swept in from each of the Outer Planes in turn, bringing with them treats or tribulations. At the moment, it was Exhilarus in the Outlands, the month connected to the plane of Arborea. This meant that summer was drawing to a close, and the weather itself seemed to celebrate the fun it was having. The evenings boasted spectacular sunsets and aurorae borealis, and the days offered blazing heatwaves and dry lightning storms. Sheltering in the cool forests, however, was not always a good idea, as the faerie folk came a-frolicking in force about this time. The evenings were warm and long and sometimes night forgot to arrive altogether because the day was enjoying itself so much. Actually, it would have been a good time and opportunity to stop in the gate town of Sylvania for a few days and just party. Since Krystall felt a deep affinity with the chaotic good planes and, in addition, her goddess Milani had her realm on Arborea, the temptation was great. But they had a mission: They had to find the Keeper and the Proclaimer. It was not entirely clear to them where and how, but as Rakalla had said: “We'll just do something and then we'll see.” Right now, that meant gliding over the Outlands in the flying barracuda and keeping an eye out for whatever it was they were looking for. The clouds presented a certain challenge. The cloud formations of the Outlands were unpredictable in that they moved in all directions, as if they didn't care about the wind. Some clouds were dark and held rain, sometimes lightning flashed between them. Others glowed menacingly from within. Some clouds were even solid and inhabited by flying creatures that occasionally built burgs or even cities on them. Some clouds made whirring, clicking sounds as if they were clockwork, others changed color. And some of them talked. The latter were not actually clouds at all, but mortai, sentient cloud-like creatures from the Beastlands. They were particularly common in the month of the Flocking, but seemed to be able to come and go between the two planes at will. But despite all these imponderables, Krixxi and Figaro steered the bizarre flying machine very confidently across the skies of the Outlands, despite Blackhoof's fears. So Krystall was able to lean nonchalantly against the railing and risk a glance down to see what landscape they were flying over. The Outlands had many different types of environments – forests, deserts, jungles, grasslands, mountains, rivers, oceans and cultivated farmland – but their arrangement was not what primes expected based on the geography of their own worlds. A desert could border directly on a snowy tundra, a jungle on a coniferous forest. But there were also floating islands, clods of earth hanging high in the air, on which fortresses or even cities had been built. Or metal landscapes near Automata, the gate town to Mechanus. Visible from almost everywhere, of course, was the Spire, that incredibly tall rock pinnacle in the center of the Outlands, above which floated the city of Sigil. Since leaving Xaos, the group had flown over a dense deciduous forest, an extensive swamp and a steppe full of zebras and gazelles. But now Krystall saw a completely different picture: a barren area stretched out below them, a wasteland of cracked earth, dried-up rivers and sharp rocky outcrops. This was possibly a place where a major arcane catastrophe had occurred, full of dangerous anomalies. But the destroyed and burnt war machines, which Krystall could see even from the barracuda, indicated something else: this place had once been a battlefield of the Blood War. The ancient conflict between baatezu and tanar'ri sometimes spilled over into other planes, and areas near gate towns to the Lower Planes were repeatedly affected. Where devils and demons had slaughtered each other, the land was devastated for years, the earth withered and poisoned, rivers dried up and plants and trees burned. It seemed that the area they were flying over had also suffered this fate. But while Krystall let her gaze wander thoughtfully over the destruction, she noticed something else on the horizon. Flying machines, but not as large as the barracuda – and they were approaching rapidly. Krystall could soon make out three light, maneuverable flying boats – and she was sure that they were heading for the barracuda. Immediately, the leader of the Razor Angels ran to the other side of the balcony and struck the bell hanging there vigorously. It took only a moment for Krixxis's pink pigtails to appear in the dome's window. The helm was located up there.

“What's going on?” the goblin woman called. ”What are you ringing so frantically down there?”

“We may get attacked,” Krystall called out loud enough to be heard above the wind. ”Look over there. I think they're heading this way!”

The mechanic immediately pulled out a telescope and looked in the indicated direction. She turned a few wheels to adjust the lenses, then swore in the language of the goblins. “I think you're right. Blex! What do we do now?”

“Do you think we can fly away from them?”

Krixxi looked through the telescope again and frowned intently, then shook her head. “I don't think so, Krystall. I'm sorry, but they're faster than we are.”

The leader of the Razor Angels sighed. “Then we'll have to fight.” She rang the bell again, louder and longer than before.

Blackhoof was the first to come out onto the balcony, still holding a spatula. “What's going on?” he complained with a snort. “I was making pancakes.”

“Oh yes!” Krixxi called enthusiastically from above. ”It was me who ordered them!”

Krystall waited until Rakalla came out onto the balcony a little later and then pointed in the direction of the approaching ships. They were now much more clearly visible, and the grim-looking crew did not suggest that they were harmless aeronauts such as traders or a passenger transport. Krystall recognized several humans and tieflings, two half-orcs and a halfling on board, but also a blue-feathered, parrot-like aarakocra and a female avariel, a winged elf. Damn. Unlike them, they had crew members capable of flight, which would certainly give them an advantage.

“Rakalla,” Krystall turned to the medusa. ”Go down to Zamakis and tell her to position herself carefully at one of the windows. Unfortunately, since it's daytime, she can't come out and help us, but maybe she can send one or two spells through the window gap. But she should be careful! And after that ... can you use your potions at a greater distance?”

Rakalla grinned. “Yup. On the other side of the tower is a kind of slingshot. I'm sure I can use it as an alchemical launcher. And if they come even closer …” She tapped her dark-tinted glasses.

“Oh, that ...” Krystall was still a little uncomfortable with Rakalla's medusa gaze. ”Yes, but please only use it as a last resort.”

“It's not permanent, as you know,” the alchemist said placatingly. “I'm not powerful enough for that. Not yet ...”

“Yes, but what if they fall overboard because they're petrified?”

“Um ...’ Rakalla looked over the balcony parapet. ”Well, at that height, it doesn't matter whether they're petrified or not if they fall overboard.”

Krystall shook her head. “No, I mean you shouldn't petrify them when they're just about to leap over the railing or fly. Then they'll plummet with no chance at all.”

The medusa frowned. ”So?”

“Well, I think that would be a bit too ... immoral,” Krystall replied firmly. When Rakalla rolled her eyes, noticeable despite her glasses, the leader of the Razor Angels waved her off. ”No discussion. You were fine with me being the captain. So for now, no such methods. Only if we notice that they seriously want to harm us and not just our cargo or something.”

“You're really too good for this world,” Rakalla said, shaking her head, but then she disappeared inside to inform Zamakis and get her potions.

Krystall turned to Blackhoof. ”We'll both stay here on the balcony, big guy. You over there and me over here. We'll take care of close combat.” When the minotaur nodded, the young woman looked up at the Xaositect again. “Krixxi, they may fire at us from their ships. In that case, try to evade. But otherwise keep the barracuda as steady as possible. Our attackers are probably more used to airship combat than we are. So a rolling deck would do more damage to us than to them.”

“Aye, captain,” called the goblin woman. ”Figaro will stay down by the gears and control the uplift crystals from there. I'll take care of the rest from up here.”

Krystall smiled. As cute and not very serious as the pink-haired mechanic and the talking rooster often seemed, she had learned not to underestimate them. Both were highly intelligent and kept a cool head even in the most precarious situations. The leader of the Razor Angels had no doubt that she could rely on the skills of Krixxi and Figaro in the coming battle. Then Rakalla came out of the tower again, carrying a large chest, and hurried to the other side of the balcony to load the slingshot with some explosive tinctures. Shortly thereafter, the pirates were already within reach for their grappling hooks. Two airships flew to the starboard side of the barracuda, where Krystall and Blackhoof were standing, and one to the larboard side where Rakalla was. Then the first grappling hooks flew through the air. Krystall cut the rope of one with her rapier, while Blackhoof grabbed the other, tore it off its rope with sheer strength and threw it overboard. At the same time, Rakalla apparently fired an alchemical projectile, because Krystall heard a clanking sound from the other side of the barracuda and then the curses and coughing of the pirate crew. But she had no time to pay further attention to it, because from starboard now the second ship approached. Already two of the pirates tried to swing over on ropes. Krystall greeted the half-orc with her rapier, while Blackhoof grabbed the tiefling by the collar and sent him asleep with a single punch. Meanwhile, Zamakis had apparently cast a spell inside the tower, because a jet of fire shot through the window gap and set the sail of the third pirate ship on fire. While she fought the half-orc, Krystall saw that several harpoon launchers were being readied on one of the ships to starboard.

“Krixxi!” the leader of the Razor Angels called up. ‘Evasion maneuver!”

“Got it!” came the immediate reply. ”Hold on!”

Krystall clung to the railing and saw Blackhoof doing the same. Then Krixxi put the barracuda into a steep curve – and indeed, three of the four harpoons flew past the vehicle. The fourth, however, struck under the right wing joint. From the engine room below, Krystall could hear Figaro crowing while he regulated the energy input to the drive – and she hoped that Rakalla on the other side had also caught Krixxi's intentions. A bright green puff of smoke on the ship on the larboard side shortly afterwards showed that the medusa was still on board. The half-orc Krystall had fought had slid a bit over the balcony as a result of the maneuver, but was now approaching again. His mistake was that he focused only on her and ignored the minotaur. Blackhoof's fist hit him on the temple, sending him to the ground.

“Thank you, big guy,” Krystall said, and then eyed the two ships to starboard.

On one of them, the crew was trying to cut loose the burning main sail and throw it overboard. On the other, however, the harpoon launchers were being readied, and the aarakocra and the avariel rose into the air.

“Go to the other side and see if Rakalla needs help,” Krystall instructed Blackhoof.

The minotaur snorted, apparently a sound of approval, and trampled over the wooden floorboards of the wide balcony to the other side of the tower. Meanwhile, a dense cloud of fog penetrated through the window gap behind which Zamakis was standing, and positioned itself between the barracuda and the pirate ship on Rakalla's side. This meant that this ship was no longer an immediate threat, and so Krystall focused on the aarakocra and the avariel, who were now both landing on the wide balcony. She was able to fight them off, but they were skilled fighters. So the leader of the Razor Angels was glad when Blackhoof returned. The two pirates correctly assessed the threat posed by the minotaur, because they rose back into the air and gained a little distance.

“Everything alright over there?“ Krystall asked Blackhoof.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” he snorted. “Rakalla threw a bottle of viscous stuff on the floor. When two pirates climbed on board, they slipped on it and could hardly stand. I sent them to sleep.”

“Good. Then hold on tight, we need another evasion maneuver.” Krystall turned her head to the window behind which the barracuda's helm was located. ”Krixxi! Another harpoon attack! Evade!”

The goblin woman shouted an answer that remained unintelligible to Krystall, but the barracuda lay on its side and swerved sharply to larboard. Nevertheless, a tremor went through the flying fish when two of the harpoons found their target. This time there were ropes attached to them, with which the pirates on the undamaged ship now pulled themselves closer to the barracuda. In addition, the parrot aarakocra launched attacks from the air, while the avariel shot from above with a bow.

“One of the harpoons hit the engine!“ Krixxi stuck her head out of the window briefly, but pulled it back immediately when an arrow whizzed past her.

“Look out!” Blackhoof called anxiously.

Krystall swore under her breath when she saw that the ship on the larboard side had freed itself from the fog cloud and was now also arming its harpoon launchers. She had to admit to herself that things looked bad – very bad. Perhaps Rakalla's medusa gaze was becoming an option after all. At that moment, another ship unexpectedly emerged from a bank of clouds. The leader of the Razor Angels felt her heart sink, but then she realized that this airship was not one of the pirates'. The wooden hull was carried by a large balloon, apparently controlled by a combination of fan sails and propellers. The ship was larger and of a very different design than the pirates' vessels. It looked more like a merchant ship – albeit an armed one.

“Hey there!” a voice suddenly rang out to the barracuda and the pirates. ”Be advised that piracy will not be tolerated in this airspace. That ... craft over there is therefore under the protection of Zilargo's Cargo. This is Captain Maxime Duval of the Cloudsong speaking.”

Astounded, Krystall lowered her rapier. The voice from the other ship seemed to have a slightly croaking undertone, but perhaps that was just due to the obviously magically enhanced speaking tube. The pirates also paused in their actions, neither throwing more harpoons nor pulling the barracuda closer to them.

“Back off!” warned the voice from the other ship, which had been named Cloudsong. ”Or we'll open fire.”

The merchant ship had come closer quickly, and Krystall could now see why there was a croak in the voice from there. At the speaking trumpet stood a small frog-like humanoid with yellow-green skin and large, golden eyes. He was dressed in a magnificent blue, white and gold uniform and wore a matching tricorn with white feathers. Krystall almost smiled. The captain of the unexpected allied ship was a grippli. And as if to emphasize his threat, he now beckoned another crew member. This one, in turn, was a hippopotamus-like giff, who towered over the captain by about three times his height and also wore an impressive uniform with golden epaulets. He seemed to be the cannoneer, because he now adjusted one of the cannons on the deck of the Cloudsong and fired a well-aimed warning shot in front of the bow of one of the pirate ships. The woman at the helm, apparently an air genasi, kept the ship confidently in place.

“What ... what kind of people are these?” Blackhoof asked, confused.

“No idea,” Krystall admitted. ”But apparently they're on our side, so I'm just not going to question it.”

The pirates didn't seem to think about it much either. When the projectile fired by the giff exploded in front of their bow, they let go of the ropes with which they had tried to pull themselves to the barracuda. The aarakocra and the avariel dragged their two unconscious comrades into the air and transported them, not without effort, to the still intact ship on the starboard side. This ship then took the ship with the burnt main sail in tow and fled, along with the third ship on the larboard side.

The grippli on the Cloudsong watched the fleeing pirates with a satisfied nod, then waved over to the barracuda. “Ahoy!” he greeted. “Akadi's blessings, travelers of the skies! I hope no one on board is hurt?”

“I don't think so,” Krystall called over. “Thanks to your intervention, I might add. Thank you very much, Captain ... Duval was the name, wasn't it?”

“That's right. Captain Maxime Duval, at your service.” He touched the brim of his tricorn as if to give a short salute. “We're glad we could help. Are you the captain of this ... craft?”

Krystall had to laugh, both at his attempt to describe the barracuda in a reasonably polite way and out of relief at the happy end to this threat. “Yes, I suppose I am the captain here, albeit of a rather chaotic and unusual crew. My name is Krystall, pleased to meet you.”

The hulking giff next to the grippli nodded at her in a friendly manner, and Maxime Duval stepped closer to the railing. “I see. Well, Captain Krystall, I warmly invite you to come aboard the Cloudsong and enjoy a glass of Bytopian port wine while we exchange a few words.”

The leader of the Razor Angels was about to accept the invitation when Krixxi looked out of the dome window. “Um, guys? I think we have a problem. Figaro says the main converter is damaged. We need to make repairs urgently, otherwise it's goodbye to the journey aboard our barracuda.”

 

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Milani is the goddess of freedom fighters, uprisings and the fight against oppression from the Pathfinder setting, which I have integrated into the Planescape setting, just like Sarin's goddess Iomedae.