Adventures in the Far Reaches (for Weiss Ritter)

[Xatarias]

Your blade cleaves a cruel arc through the air, glowing runes trailing bloody light as you spin against the alpha's ferocious attack. Hot air caresses your skin as the cat's jaws enclose upon the space where your neck previously occupied. Your sword comes down, but the hexapuma's mid-paws lash out, catching your arm and forcing you off target. The move is supernaturally fast, but familiar to one whose speed band was awakened among such creatures. Sensing the crafty feline curling away from your blow, you let your battle-sense guide you and readjust.

Hot blood coats you face as you cut into the predator's left flank, turning to keep your enemy in sight. Your following lunge would have spitted the creature, but she bats your lengthy blade away, eyeing it with fearful respect- recognizing it for the fang that it was.

You seize the initiative, pressing forward. The battle turns in your favor as the Matriarch is hindered by her wound. But part of you remains cautious. Why did she risk such a risky maneuver when you were planted and ready for it? The numerous scars lining her visage marks the cat as a cunning duelist and hunter. And where were the other members of her pack? The juvenile outside couldn't be her only offspring. There should be more, circling, trying to put you off balance and give their mother the advantage.

You back your opponent against the wall when suddenly her defense becomes desperate and ferocious. Accepting a laceration along the rib cage, she forces inside your guard, causing you to backpedal. As your battling jostles the surrounding containers, a series of mewls emanates from one of the crates.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion felt a tinge of pride mixed with grim satisfaction as the mighty matriarch's blood splattered across his bare flesh. He knew better than to let either emotion distract him from the edge such a wound gave him. The rune-carved sword was thrust forth with Orion's typical combination of supernatural strength and speed guided by masterful skill. A lightning-swift swipe of one of the alpha's paws deflected what could have been a finishing stroke with the same speed and precision she had used to spare her head.

Orion's teeth clenched in strained disappointment even as he pivoted to follow his opponent. His blade was held diagonally before him to ward off any attempts at a counterattack. The wary respect the hexapuma offered the young warrior's impressive weapon was echoed into his own expression before he lunged forth in a blur. Orion's sword cut through air and flesh alike with far more speed than such a hefty weapon had any right to be swung. The matriarch's scars were as much a testament to her prowess as a primal duelist as the speed and precision of her paw-strikes, and yet the advantage seemed to remain firmly with him. She had taken an uncharacteristically hasty risk in trying to rush a foe she had acknowledged as an approximate equal just by accepting his challenge and was paying for it with each inch of ground surrender or slice Orion managed to cut into her even when her paws spared her body.

The young warrior frowned.

Why?

Was the rest of her pack silently moving into position? Was he merely advancing into a trap?

Again the elder hexapuma lashed out with uncharacteristic haste and desperation as soon as her back was to the wall. Orion grunted and his eyes widened as he felt her claws and teeth come within inches of catching his unarmored flesh, forcing him back a respectable distance even as his own "fang" bit deeply into the alpha's hide. His martial stance was recovered almost immediately and the young warrior's crimson eyes stared piercingly back at the hexapuma. That was more than a simple on her part. She was old and scarred enough to understand that the wound his blade just carved into her flesh was the sort that could become infected and crippling even if she walked away from this duel alive. Why-?

A series of mewls cut through the air. There was his answer. The posturing he thought he recognized before the juvenile distracted him? The fact that a juvenile was the pack's first and only line of defense before the alpha herself had to step in?

Orion paused for a moment, those his guard never wavered. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he stepped back away from the crate that seemed to hold the hexapuma's cubs, preferably towards whichever opposite corner of the chamber would still give him an advantage of some kind. Crates to box in the hexapuma matriarch's movements? A space just open enough for him to maneuver around the hulking beast effectively enough for keeping him in her sights to be an awkward and straining ordeal? Whatever the case, Orion would likely find a way to exploit it.

No matter what, he had little wish to drag the matriarch's cubs into this. The luxury of moral concerns aside, the matriarch would likely fight to the death to keep them alive from an encroaching predator if he forced her hand there. Making it clear he just wanted the ship and not the flesh of her pack, though? That could give them both a way out of this without risking being bleeding and crippled in the treacherous wilds.

 

[Xatarias]

The wreckage of your fight begins escalate with upended crates and broken wall panels leaving plenty of potential choke points. Exploiting them is another matter altogether, however. The matriarch is utterly dogged in her defensive posture, unwilling to be tempted into following you around the cargo hold. Unless you could find some other method of kicking her out of the ship, you'd be faced with the grizzly task of keeping this majestic creature moving until she bled out from the various wounds you had already inflicted.

Ilyanna's cannon blast rings out again, but this time accompanied by the sharp crack of metal giving way under extreme tension. She must have shot out a cable while attempting to hit the speedy youngster outside.

There is a shriek of metal in motion as the ship lists to the side and the crates give way to gravity. You barely manage to jump clear as one massive container smashes into another. A millisecond of hesitation would have reduced you to a fleshy pulp. You find yourself atop a small mountain of shambled shipping material, with the hexapuma and her litter trapped below up against the far hanger door.

"Orion! Ancestors, are you all right!? I'm going to- hold still, damn you!"

A series of arc-cannon fire is punctuated by a feral snarl.

"Listen, the crane is damaged. Get yourself out of there, the whole blasted thing is going to flip."

You desperately search for the exit, but the holes in the hull have been covered by several tons of shipping crates. Soon this ship would be turned end for end, leaving you and one family of hexapumas crushed into oblivion.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion's jaw clenched as he thrust his blade forth in a series of quick feints more meant to keep the towering matriarch distracted and exerting herself than to inflict serious injury. The hexapuma's matronly instincts were keeping her firmly and frustratingly on the defensive. As dangerous as a cornered beast could be, there was little joy or glory to be had in chipping away at a mother who would literally die of bloodloss before leaving her cubs undefended. Yet Orion struggled to come up with a better solution. He had tried to communicate some semblance of mercy, and it had been either misunderstood or rejected. Recklessly charging into the entrenched predator's grasp could just as easily see him mauled and the tied turned as end their duel in his favor.

Perhaps if he could strike at the hexapuma from a distance. The crates and broken panels that were now strewn across the battlefield could probably be turned into improvised weapons with enough strength and guile. As long as the alpha insisted on holding her position, time was on his si-

The sound of Ilyanna's cannon firing and the entire ship groaning in its wake changed everything.

"Ances-" The young warrior's entire world shifted without warning. Orion gritted his teeth and half-leapt, half-rolled as a barrage of crates was flung about the vessel. He could feel the rush of air and cold steel brush fractions of an inch away from his flesh before the ship came to a halt. One milisecond of hesitation or a wrong move, and he would have been buried beneath the literal tons of...whatever the ancients saw fit to store in here!

"Ilyanna!" Naked strained and adrenaline colored Orion's tone. "The holes are blocked. Trying to find another way out. We may need to make one!"

His crimson eyes briskly swept over the chambers and the hexapuma pack below. The young warrior watched them for a moment only, just long enough to determine if they were trapped or were making for some other exit his duel with the alpha had prevented him from noticing. If they weren't, he would have made as much of a dash as the twisted angle and falling debris of the starship allowed for to the next chamber over. Much of this vessel was already rotting and decaying. If there wasn't another hole somewhere, he and Ilyanna just needed some sufficiently rusty patch in the hull near the cables for to slash or blast into an exit!

 

[Xatarias]

The cubs have vacated the damaged crate at this point, all four of them squirming in and around their mothers legs despite her obvious attempt to shift them back into the safety of the den. The constant shifting of the ancient ship and accompanying grinding sounds of metal on metal has them agitated in the extreme. Their throaty cries doesn't make it any easier for you to think your way out of this mess.

(Insight roll: 11)

Perched on the corner of an upturned crate, you scan the cargo hold for any means of escape. Dilapidated as it was, the ship doesn't have obviously exploitable exploitable weaknesses. Any rusted patches of hull would take more than a few moments to cut through- time you currently didn't have.

A metallic shriek draws your attention to the loading doors currently supporting the hexapumas and a small mountain of shipping crates. Light floods through a gap in the doorframe as the rusting hydraulics begin to fail and slowly slide apart.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed when he failed to identify any obvious ways out. On any other occasion he and especially Ilyanna would have been thrilled that the rust was only skin-deep, but now...?

His crimson eyes flickered down towards the Hexapuma pack. They weren't faring any better than he, and the cubs' pitiable cries were making it nearly impossible to hear his own thoughts. Dammit...he'd tried, but if he didn't have time to hack an exit out of the inanimate hull, he certainly didn't have time to wrestle them away from their behemoth of a mother and then somehow find a way out while carrying four struggling cubs!

Ancestors...!

A tremble ran through the dilapidated ship and a terrible metallic shriek drowned out even the hexapumas' fearful cries. Orion braced himself for a sudden or fall or another barrage of man-crushing cargo crates, but none came. His crimson eyes widened and a relieved laugh almost escaped his lips as the vessel's loading doors began to cave under the mountain of cargo and the predators atop it.Whether it was his prayers or pure chance, they had their way out!

The young warrior dashed for the hefty yet weakening doors was swiftly as he could. His blade was drawn and raised in warning again the hexapuma matriarch, but his stance was a defensive one and he tried to keep some distance from her and her cubs. She had been willing risk getting bled dry by him just to avoid leaving her offspring unprotected for even a moment. Hopefully those protective instincts would demand she do the same just long enough for the doors to give way and for them to all slip out when they finally did.

 

[Xatarias]

You leap for the doors. The one and only hope of escape doesn't leave you much space with your furry rivals, but there isn't much choice. You land lightly, warily avoiding the mother and her brood, best you can. A few submissive croons from the back of your throat seems to placate her- or at least induce sufficient confusion for you not to be mauled immediately.

Dread floods through you as you realize the crack between the doors wouldn't accommodate your frame. You can almost hear the gods laughing as your salvation was dangled in front of you only to be wrenched away. Maybe you could hack an opening wide enough to wriggle free. Maybe-

You vision flares red as something impacts the doors with a ear-ringing boom. You and the cats struggle to keep your footing as another arc of plasma smashes into the cargo doors. You can feel the heat even through your thickly souled boots as the metal turns to a cherry red. You stumble as the door buckle, warping outward and leaving you enough space to slip through.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Fuckdamnshit-!

Orion's mental cursing was as uproarious as it was nearly incoherent. The precise and crucial details of how the alpha was reacting to his submissive crooning were a distant thought as he rapidly scanned over the doors and the hydraulics that controlled them. Gods, how did this engineering work again?! Would severing the machinery release its hold over the doors in an instant or just lock them in place? Maybe he could hack or bash through the already strained doors, but they were surely more sturdy than some moving par-

"Grah...!"

Orion grunted and gripped one of the crates to steady himself as something smashed into the doors. Another boom ripped through the hull and the air, but this time the young warrior could feel the tell-tale heat of plasma at work. Illyanna's handiwork? Gods, if this was her handiwork, he could kiss her-!

Later...!

The once sturdy cargo doors warped and bent beneath the combined weight and disintegrating heat. Orion didn't even have a second to waste. He made a mad dash for the man-sized opening, attempting to drive his heavy blade into the heat-weakened door as he did so. Ideally, the combination of his momentum and strength would be enough to force the weakened door to open as he passed through. If it did, the runed sword embedded in it would give him something to hold onto if the drop was too far and clear the way for the larger hexapuma matriarch to make her own escape.

If it didn't, then he tried and retrieving the blade from the fallen starship would be a straightforward task as long as he survived...

 

[Xatarias]

Your charged blade sinks deep into the super heated metal, the resulting friction allowing you to swing down and out of the swaying ship. You emerge amidst a shower of sparks and careening metal shrapnel. The crane is buckling, sending rivets zipping off in all directions. A cable come lose with an enormous crack and you just manage to pull yourself parallel with the ship's side as the wicked whip of metal scythes below just where your legs had been.

What must be seconds feels like an enternity as your perch slumps earthward. The ground rises to meet you, promising swift death, strength band or no strength band. Your only chance was to hurl yourself towards the edge of the dry dock and pray that nothing crashed down on top of you.

Carefully judging the timing, you leap, hands extended for the edge of the raised platform. Feet... And then inches. You were going to make i-

Whumpf!

A metal covered in chipped yellow paint flashes in your peripheral vision and your adrenaline-numbed senses manage to register a pain in your midriff. You pick up speed, vision flickering as your course was shifted with massive acceleration. Your last sensory input is the lights going by overhead as you skid on your back across the hanger floor.

A warrior is eager to test his limits, Orion. A leader ensures that he never has to. Restraint will keep you and yours alive far longer than foolish notions of bravery. Remember-

"...-rion. Orion! Ancestors, look at me! Ry Ry!"

The garbled voice finally breaks through the ringing in your ears. Your eyes are already open, but it takes a moment for your vision clear. You stare up at Ilyanna's face lying prone on the floor with your head in her lap. Some yards away is the smoking, sparking metal ruin of the space ship. An yellow assembly mech lies crushed underneath the wreckage, its ruined arm crumpled in the exact area where you had aimed your leap.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Ancestors...!

What the hell had happened while he was dueling with the hexapuma matriarch inside the vessel?! It wasn't "just" a matter of something several times larger than his family's home dangling by a few scant threads of metal anymore. The entire crane was collapsing in on itself, sending sparks, shrapnel, and snapping cables capable of bisecting damn near anything in the jungle flying through the air. Orion used his embedded sword to pull himself up against the ship's hull and flinched when he felt the pressure from one such cable lashing through the air where his legs had been.

...If he'd been an instant slower, he'd be falling to his death, bleeding out, or worst of all: reduced to a legless cripple. If this whole trip wasn't worth it in the end...!

Orion looked to the loading dock the moment he felt the ship giving way. The Wake gave him the extra few moments he needed to make an educated guess about whether he could make the leap and avoid being sliced in half by any more cables midway. Power flowed through his strength band and into the rest of his struggling body. His muscles bulged and tensed. If not for the chaos around him, the sound of the young warrior hurling himself from the metal hull would have echoed through the massive chamber. One arm reached out to grab the edge of the platform while the other thrust his blade forward. If he'd miscalculated and the gap was too large, he just needed to use the sword's greater reach to stab into the deck securely enough to-!

"Urgh...!"

All the air in Orion's lungs left him as something hard and cold connected with his chest. Fresh, fearful adrenaline coursed through his veins and widened his eyes as he flew faster still through the air. His back smashed against cold but stable ground, but it was scant comfort. His world went black, and a moment later the rest of his senses followed his sight into oblivion.

One of Gran's more...frustrating lessons came to mind as soon as the young man was capable of forming coherent thought. He couldn't feel anything, but if his body was at all responsive to his whims, Orion would have been frowning.

He was probably going to be chewed out by Grandma for agreeing to go on this...especially dangerous misadventure of Ilyanna's. He wasn't even sure if the prospect of salvaging something that made the clan's prized skimmers look like children's playthings would placate the elder huntress. Things had changed since had completed his training under her. It wasn't just about risk versus reward anymore, but principle.

...Gods, it wasn't fair. Orion could get understand what Gran meant. As fun and fulfilling as continuing to push his limits and see what new forms of martial mastery he could devise, it would all mean nothing if anything happened to his family or Ilyanna. Without them, he...

It wasn't just about them, though. He was protecting Ilyanna just fine now. Grandma wanted him to extend that protection to the entire clan. She wanted him to discard his calling as a warrior and the freedom he'd only just gotten a taste of now that his training was complete. All so he could-

A somewhat more welcome voice reached Orion's ears. He groaned and stirred. Slowly, the blur faded enough for him to make out Ilyanna's worried features.

"I'm alright...I think," The young man attempted a cautious rise from his childhood friend and paramour's lap. Much of his body still felt numb. If he'd taken a pounding from...whatever sent him skidding across the floor, chances work that sudden and agonizing pain would be the first indication if he was too hasty.

Orion blinked as his vision cleared and the world came into greater focus. "What happened?"

His crimson eyes scanned over Ilyanna's body for any sign of injury, hexpuma-inflicted or otherwise, then flickered across the chamber for any sign of the predators or hints of what he'd missed in his calculated dash for safety.

 

[Xatarias]

Ilyanna seems fine, although her face appears smeared with blood from somewhere- likely you. When you manage to speak, she gathers you up in fierce hug that makes causes your damaged rib cage to throb.

"W-what, happened!? I nearly dropped a ship on you, that's what. Gods, if you hadn't jumped when you did, I..."

The quiver in her voice is a foreign quality to your ears. Bound up in her embrace, you can't see her face, but it almost sounded like-

"The little guy you met on the cables nearly took my arm off and I got scared. Made too many stupid shots and one hit the crane. I thought you'd have more time- I thought... I almost killed you."

The horror contained in that whisper conveyed the depth of Ilyanna's emotional turmoil. It's almost enough for you to forget about ancient treasure troves and prowling hexapumas. When you finally separate, Ilyanna's face is tear-streaked. She surveys the carnage of recent events while still holding to you. A snort escapes her, somewhere on the border of amusement and hysteria.

"Well, she's certainly a valuable pile of scrap. We don't even get the consolation of that assembly mech. I had to use it to knock you clear of the wreckage and..."

She trails off, all effort of trying to insert normalcy into the situation abandoned. She squeezes you tighter, as if to reassure herself you were still there.

"It doesn't matter, anyway..."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion visibly bristled when he saw the blood on Ilyanna's body. His minimalist taste in gear did tend to leave little to the imagination where minute tensions were concerned. It wasn't until she threw her arms around him and her body against his that he realized it was not her blood.

"Argh...!" The young man grunted under his breath. For a moment it felt like someone had quickly and simultaneously stabbed half his ribs with a hot knife. That was going to be fun to explain when he got back...

Orion couldn't help but relax despite the pain and apprehension. Even though it was born of abject terror, Ilyanna's embrace was a warm and soothing thing. His muscular arms wrapped tenderly around the techno-shaman's athletic frame as he exhaled a heavy breath.

"It's alright. I mean...Ancestors, I am never dueling a hexapuma alpha in a rickety vehicle ever again-" A suspiciously and perhaps pointedly specific confession for Orion to make. It wasn't every day he had a chance to test himself against so worthy a foe. "But we're both alive. And I probably should have done...something about that cat on the cables rather than just leaving him with you. Baited him long enough to give you a steady shot...?"

Orion exhaled again. He could think of a half-dozen problems with that plan, but in hindsight it might not have been as suicidal as he thought.

"Things...could have been worse. Yeah..." The young warrior knelt closely to Ilyanna, his arms still clinging around her as long as she would permit it. So warm...and tantalizingly firm.

"We're both alive, not maimed, got several building's worth of scrap, and all while trying to salvage an artifact right out of out the oldest legends we have. Anyone who complains about that when we get back doesn't have a soul. Or is my grandma..."

Orion chuckled good-naturedly, but there was a note of genuine apprehension to it.

"Just...give me a few minutes like this. If nothing else comes to try and kill us, anyway." The young man shifted to lean more comfortably against Ilyanna. "I don't think my ribs will be up for much celebrating tonight, so I'll take what I can get now. And this is...nice."

 

[Xatarias]

Confusion flutters across Ilyanna's face as you lean into her, but she doesn't pull away.

"Nice...," She murmurs as if tasting the word. When she realizes you are still looking at her, she flushes and squeezes your midriff just a little too hard. Damn, you were really going to feel this in the morning.

You survey the ruined remains of the ship, lost in your respective thoughts. As usual, you aren't certain what is on Ilyanna's mind, but sitting together like this... Well, you didn't often get a quiet moment of intimacy with anyone, much less your long-time crush. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

The bang of a metal panel falling over draws your attention and you watch as the Hexapuma and her brood squirm out from under the wreckage. They must have escaped the cargohold while you were clinging on the edge of life. The mother gives a baleful growl in your direction before gathering a straggling cub in her jaws and limping off to the far side of the hanger where she is rejoined by the pesky juvenile. The warrens weren't a forgiving place to a wounded hunter, but you have a feeling that the scarred matriarch was a survivor. Hopefully they would find a new home.

"Nine lives indeed," Ilyanna says watching them go. "People are going to have a hard time believing this before they see all this... And I don't think we should. Show them, I mean. There are so many secrets to uncover here, Orion. It would be a pity to see it all scrapped. Maybe, given enough time... This thing could fly again."

Something lights on fire in the pile of twisted metal. You don't have to look at Ilyanna to sense her grimace.

"A lot of time..."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion wasn't quite sure what Ilyanna would make of his request. Part of him half-expected some witty put-down or a sad remark that they just didn't have the time for that sort of thing. Her flushed face and gentle silence came as a relief. The way she tightened her embrace was equal parts soothing as it was painful.

"Argh..."

Even so, the young man refused to break the embrace and relaxed back into it soon enough. This was nice. Almost his entire life had been lived with the grim specter of death hanging overhead in one form or another. He'd not only grown accustomed to to the threat, but made the most of it and the adrenaline-fueled hedonism that made up a good chunk of his life. Quietly basking in Ilyanna's presence like this was about as far from that as he could have gotten, but he wouldn't have traded it for the undivided attention of every huntress in clan Cloudclimber.

The ringing of metal smashing against metal made Orion tense and his eyes snap wide open. He grabbed his sword as the hexapuma alpha and her battle-ready juvenile emerge, then twisted so Ilyanna was safely behind him. The young warrior relaxed with a very relieved sigh only once the pack had disappeared into the warrens. Well, on the bright side, his damaged ribs would be the only thing giving him trouble sleeping this night.

"Oh?" Orion glanced back to Ilyanna with a wary frown. He'd only uttered one syllable, but his tone and expression carried so much more meaning. She knew him that well...and had probably made the same calculations as he. The clan eccentric returning with the battered prodigy on the day before an expedition with nothing but a story about hexapumas and shakey ground to show for it? That wasn't going to be fun for either of them.

She probably wasn't wrong to fear what their clan would do to the wrecked but still magnificent ship if they did report back about it, though. Orion wasn't privy to the details of the techno-shamans' workload, but things didn't look good this morning and the council probably would pick the certainty of a small wealth of salvage over Ilyanna's speculation and dreams. Ancestors...they might even have been welcomed back as the heroes of the day if not for those...but what would Ilyanna be without them?

"Alright," Orion said with a sigh as he tried to stand, possibly with the aid of the technoshaman's rippling form. "It's not like we're not used to the clan frowning at us for making these trips, right? Just don't get yourself into any real trouble trying to fix this thing while I'm healing or going on someone else's death-defying adventure. That would make me very sad, and I've been practicing on my own frown really hard lately. I'm not sure if you'd be able to handle it."

 

[Xatarias]

Ilyanna hauls your arm over her shoulders and helps you stand. Your quip is met with an upraised eyebrow.

"A disapproving Ry Ry? That does sound pretty terrifying. But I'd hate to let this sit while you're recovering. Awfully coy of you to leave a girl in suspense like this..." She turns her head so you are nose to nose. Her breath tickles your lips. "But I guess I can wait."

Now that your are upright, walking is a uncomfortable but manageable task. Ilyanna is there to brace you as you put one foot in front of the other. Your bands are already firing, instinctively accelerating the healing process, but you are careful to keep the flow in check. Frustrating as it is to linger in this compromised condition, it is far better to let nature take its course than risk overusing your powers.

Climbing your way back up to Skyhold proper takes far longer than the initial descent. Ilyanna has to work a little harder to accomodate your weakened state, but eventually you both manage to traverse the various ducts and tunnels back to the access grates. Stowing the climbing gear in her pack, Ilyanna settles on the story you would tell anyone who asked about your injuries.

"So you zigged when you should have zagged and ended up smashing into a wall during a rappel. I saved your ass in suitably dramatic fashion and we decided to turn back rather than risk any further injuries."

A reasonable explanation. You might even manage to make it sound convincing... To everyone except a certain someone.

Ilyanna catches your expression.

"You said she's been at council meetings more often recently. Maybe she'll be too busy to care this time."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

With Ilyanna's help, Orion stood with a faint grin tugging at his lips. He loved these verbal spars of theirs. His lips parted, a retort dancing on the tip of his tongue, but suddenly Ilyanna turned so that a few scant inches were the only thing between them and a kiss. His breath caught in his lungs and his eyes in her own. Was she...?

No. Orion looked upon her with baited breath, but it seemed no kiss was forthcoming. He tried to hide his disappointment as they began to make their way back to Skyhold.

Don't wait too long, Ilyanna...

Whatever frustration he felt towards the techno-shaman's apparent unwillingness to decide what role she wanted him to have in her life was quickly buried beneath the strain of their journey. It was far from the most physically taxing ordeal either of them had been through, but his relative weakness meant they had to take that much more time and care to climb and leap their way through the often treacherous ruins. The pain of his damaged ribs was fading, but still flared up every time he or Ilyanna's help pressed his body a little too hard. There was little that could be done about it, though. Orion knew far, far better than most just what the power his clan had been blessed with could do if allowed to run rampant.

"That's a very flattering cover story...for you. I guess that makes you my soldier in shiny armor?" The young warrior grinned and leaned against a nearby wall while Ilyanna packed her bag. To think, all it took for her to put all that lithe and powerful muscle to work as their packmule for once was him nearly getting flattened by a small village worth of debris. "Not that I'm opposed to anything that might get the hunters to see how amazing you are. Thing we could throw in some mention of hexapumas, though? Gran isn't going to be thrilled if I not only risked my life and ability to go on the expedition for you, but everyone thinks that it was for nothing because I was clumsy."

Orion's playful smile remained but the thought of how his grandmother would fit into all of this tugged at him hard enough that Ilyanna noticed with a only a glance.

"...Maybe." He looked away from Ilyanna, now frowning in thought. "It might make things worse. She's made it clear that my actions have consequences for her, and...well, I passed my adulthood trial with flying colors, but she hasn't really stopped grooming me for the future."

Orion shifted uneasily. He must have sounded ridiculous now. 'Oh woe is me! My living legend of a grandmother saved my life and taught me how to unlock all of my incredible potential! Now she wants me to grow up into a responsible leader!'. But...dammit, being her disciple and a prospective council member was not what many within the tribe thought it was.

"...What are you hoping will happen if she does care?" His crimson eyes locked onto Ilyanna's own. "I wouldn't even be here with you if not for her. I can't just...lie even if I could say it well enough for her to not see through me."

 

[Xatarias]

"I don't expect you to lie to her, Orion," Ilyanna says with a thoughtful frown. "I get the feeling that she won't disagree with keeping this a secret. For entirely different reason, of course. That old fox will turn anything to her advantage."

Disapproving of your friendship from the start, your grandmother hasn't given Ilyanna many reasons to be fond of her. Their adversarial relationship formed something of a dance around you, flying in separate orbits. But when they collided....

The grate to Skyhold creaks as Ilyanna throws her weight against it.

"Look, I know what I'm doing. This is going to turn out for all of us. I just need some time and for the council to not trash the most valuable piece of salvage recovered in the last fifty year. This isn't just about some lost legacy. That ship could be the key to our future. I feel... I don't know, like it was meant for us. You and me."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

"Point taken..." Orion frowned even as his body visibly relaxed. For one reason or another, Gran and Ilyanna rarely saw eye-to-eye. It was almost reflexive for him to assume they'd come to blows over the ruined ship as well and that he'd be dragged into yet another emotionally ravaging tug of war between them, but...maybe Ilyanna was right. His grandmother had made the distinction between being a good hunter and a good councilor clear, but the instincts she'd honed as a legendary survivalist seemed to serve her quite well in the political arena. Sometimes that meant being patient, enduring even starvation to let an opportunity ripen into something worth harvesting.

And an entire vessel that may have been able to travel beyond this world was one hell of the opportunity.

"You and me?" Orion followed closely behind her. His tone was curious and perhaps...just a bit hopeful? "I mean...securing and getting it working again has definitely been a team effort so far, but...well, where are you hoping all of this might lead?"

A bit of a vague and loaded question? Perhaps. Could he really be blamed for trying to wrangle something resembling a straight answer out of the technoshaman, though?

 

[Xatarias]

Ilyanna startles as if the words you relayed back were not the ones she just spoke moments before. Turning just before you reach the ground floor and the cantina beyond, she fixes you with those amber eyes. The wrinkle in her brow tells you that the gears were turning in that brilliant brain.

"I think... I think it's time we had a talk," She says carefully, hands nervously gripping the straps of her pack. "But not here and not now. I need to get some things written down while they're fresh and you've got to report to her Highness."

Technically the clan hasn't had a high chief in over a century, but your grandmother is pretty close in terms of influence and the capacity to use it. Returning home injured was already guaranteed to draw her ire. Better to make your excuses now before she decided to tie you down for your own good.

It's still painfully obvious that Ilyanna is delaying for some reason. Seeing your disappointment, she gives you a gentle smile and leans in.

"Come to my place afterwards. You're not going on an expedition like this, and I owe you one for today. I'll explain everything then."

You feel like you've been hooked up to a power conduit as her soft, soft lips press against the curve of your jaw. Did she!? Did you just-

"See you then, Ry Ry!"

You have to leap back or be decked by Ilyanna's swinging pack. A millisecond of bliss turns to utter wanting as your beloved leaps through the to main enclosure of Skyhold. You watch as she nimbly maneuvers through the crowd, making her way to the communal Shaman quarters.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion watched Ilyanna startle and turn to face him with little fanfare on his part. Some small part of him scrutinized her reaction with baited breath, but they'd danced around this issue before. Whatever well-oiled gears were turning in that magnificent mind of her's, they had by accident or design failed to offer him any concrete answers before.

A talk...?!

The young man tried not to look too excited, but keeping his body steady to avoid spooking prey or drawing a predator's gaze was not the same as mastering all the minuscule tells that could make open books of even jaded hunters. It was only a vague promise, but it was a promise. Maybe this time they would actually...maybe...

Orion wasn't struggling to suppress a smile anymore. Quite the opposite. Ilyanna was just going to tell him he'd imagined things and they really needed to go over how to haul enough spare parts to that damned ship without the salvage-happy portions of the clan noticing, wasn't she? His once widening crimson eyes lost some of their famed luster.

And then Orion felt her lips press against his jawline.

The young man's heart skipped a beat. He took a moment to make sure he hadn't been imagining things, but Ilyanna's warm smile lingered no matter how many times he blinked or how hard he concentrated. The pack that nearly sent him sprawling back across the ground was somewhat less welcome.

"H-hey!" Orion shouted, but couldn't quite manage to sound reproachful. Ilyanna was gone, off to do...whatever was next on her list. He'd known the eccentric technoshaman for the bulk of his life and even now so much of what she said and did eluded him. The warrior gingerly touched where her lips had touched him. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the patch of flesh along his jaw still felt warm.

A talk...right. Well, whatever it really meant in the grand scheme of things, Orion still had a clan to placate with his and Ilyanna's rehearsed story and a living legend of a grandmother to appraise of what really transpired in the warren's depths.

Each step he took towards where he guessed Gran was making great strides on the political front one way or another made his heart and head feel that much lighter. She wouldn't be thrilled about his wound, but the prize he and Ilyanna had secured because of it....! Maybe, just maybe the two would see eye to eye for a change? Maybe even enough for Gran to encourage their projects together for a change? Then maybe he could get a clear answer out of Ilyanna for once about his role in her life and then they could...

Stop.

Orion chided himself, his jaw tightening. Getting worked up over the future was never worth it in his experience. All too often you just wound up worrying over things you couldn't change or making plans that got dashed by one twist of fate or another. Certainly nothing about his own life had been predictable...and there was always the chance that it'd be too short to have the present be ruined by such concerns.

 

[Xatarias]

The ascent to the council chambers is slow as you work your way through a dense crowd gathered at the main gates. Making your way up the spiraling causeway, you note that the shamans have managed to finish their repairs on Skyhold's hull. The lava vent's furious discharge has subsided and several work bands were saying their farewells to loved ones. You watch as a middle-aged man tosses his giggling daughter into the air. He then hands her to a woman you presume is his wife. Their smiles are tight even as he promises to return whole and sound.

It was expected for adults to contribute to the welfare of the clan. For those without child-caring duties or some other position with Skyhold, that meant venturing out into the Wilds. Not all were hunters like yourself. Those less gifted would stick to well-explored territory, foraging edible plants seeded the previous season and harvesting various raw resources necessary to the upkeep of the hold. It was safe work, relatively speaking. Of course, with the hunting parties delayed, there was a greater chance of some predator wandering where it would be least unexpected...

"-Over my dead body. Provoking Shadowglen by harvesting the south valley won't alleviate our supply situation. I realize it's been awhile since you saw the sky without a force barrier overhead, but I'd expect you to realize that open ware fare makes harvesting rather difficult."

You reach the steps of the looming council chambers. The building is set into the wall, directly below the luminous Reactor. Ilyanna once told you that the massive, bulbous windows were the remnants of a navigation chamber salvaged deep from the warrens. You would have to deploy climbing gear to peer within, but you know beyond those circular portals were the twenty-one chairs of the council. Here your grandmother and other Aldermen conducted the crucial- and often boring- business of organizing Skyhold into a productive collective.

Recognizing the dry, disparaging tone of your grandmother, you locate the steel-haired matriarch in short order. While reaching only chest-height for most people, she nevertheless cuts an impressive figure verbally eviscerating the much larger Councilman Donya.

"S-see here, Tysera. No one is advocating open war, simply a exploratory mission. Surely your grandso-"

"My grandson is busy keeping this clan safe and healthy, something that should be of higher priority than your family's brainless warmongering. I know you're eager to see those oxen you call sons acquit themselves in a real battle, but I'm afraid they'll just have to content themselves looking fierce escorting the next salvage crew. Some of still remember what war is, Donya."

Donya flushes and opens his mouth to speak, but Gran Gran has already dismissed him, turning to you with a raised brow.

"Perfect timing, Orion. Donya and I were just finishing up. I've been looking forward to Lanna's gesuru all week. We don't want to be late for dinner."

As far as you know, your mother had no special plans for dinner- but you know Gran's expressions well enough to understand she wants an excuse to leave. Reaching up to grasp your arm, she steers you in the direction of home, making grandmotherly small talk and leaving a blustering Donya in her wake.

About half a turn from the council hall, she abruptly cuts the idle chatter and nods towards a deserted alley.

"H-here...," She rasps. "Just for a moment..."

You barely manage to keep her upright as your mentor stumbles to the side street, coughing profusely. You wait for the fit to subside, watching as the largest figure in your life is reduced to a trembling, sickly old woman.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion advanced upon the council chambers with as fine a balance between speed and caution as he could manage. Moving the wrong way or breathing a bit too hard would set his ribs on fire all over again. Mercifully, he was left to his own devices by his clanmates. His and Ilyanna's return seemed to have coincided with a change in shift and some tenuous progress on the disaster that had the maintenance crews so worked up. Very tenuous...

The young man stopped for a moment when he saw a family together. He'd worn the same expression the parents were exchanging while their oblivious daughter many times before. Orion did not need to be a master-mechanic or knee deep in technical reports to take a guess at just how bad things were getting. Every day maintaining the machines seemed to take a greater and greater tole upon the technoshamen, no matter how hard or brilliantly they toiled, and their supply of salvaged parts couldn't last forever...

Orion took a breath and tried to put his thoughts of the man aside. There would be plenty of time to discuss tenuousness of the clan's overall situation once the particular of his and Ilyanna's private little expedition was sorted out.

What he overheard as he approached the council chambers did little to set the warrior at ease on that front. Shadowglen? That was curious. He had only heard vague tales of the other clans before. The prospect of war driven by a continued lack of supplies...? The phrase "death spiral" sprang to mind...

And then he specifically was dragged into it.

Orion wasn't quite sure whether to be annoyed or flattered at how quick Donya was to recommend him for a special, if death-defying, mission into the mysterious realm that was another clan's territory. It didn't really matter. Gran's words cut through Donya's bravado and his own silent flippancy with customary efficiency.

Orion could feel the pressure mounting against his heart and ribs already. "Keeping the clan safe and healthy"? All the thoughts he tried to bury came rushing back to the forefront again. What if she didn't agree that his and Ilyanna's find made it all worth it? Or maybe she would but consider it sheer blind luck that him acting irresponsibly just happened to uncover such a treasure. Ancestors...scorn was one thing, but it was the disappointment in her gaze that hurt the most.

"Of course," The young warrior managed a cocky smile despite his inner turmoil and extended his arm for the elder warrior to grasp with just enough playfulness for most casual observers to think it was merely a courtesy an exuberant young man had been condition by his terrifying grandmother to play along with.

If only they could have been so lucky.

"Take all the time you need," He murmured with a deep frown between Tysera's hacks. The blond warrior stood between his grandmother and the alleyway's entrance, leaning forward just enough that someone paying them the bare minimum of attention might "only" think some shady words were being exchanged.

Orion could feel his stomach twisting. Tysera, the mistress of the wilds, his savior, his mentor, and the greatest leader clan Cloudwalker had in generations...reduced to a frail old woman some might have considered a drain on precious resources. Yet another reminder about how capricious the world they lived in could be.

"Not too much farther until we're home..." Orion glanced back over his shoulder to check on any passersby as well as get a rough estimate of the remaining distance. "There's something I need to tell you away from prying eyes."

 

[Xatarias]

"I'm... I'm fine," Tysera murmurs, bracing herself against the alley wall. "These constant meetings are taking a lot out of me is all. Climbing all those steps with half a lung doesn't do much for my stamina."

You are pretty sure anyone else wouldn't be standing right now, much less complaining about being winded after a few flights of stairs. Most people took your grandmother's abandonment of hunting leathers as acknowledgment of her new advisory capacity, but you know that under the long sleeves of her modest dress, her strength bands are flaring constantly.

A few moments is all Tysera will allow herself and she hooks her arm through yours firmly. With practiced cohesion, you bear her weight without making it obvious to the passersby. You play the part of dutiful grandson as she smiles and addresses the various constituents of your neighborhood. Ever the masterful politician, she deals with every question with grace and somehow manages to grant every favor asked of her. It is only after you slump into your family's doorway that the facade drops.

"Needy fuckers," She gasps, reaching for the cane propped up against the wall. "I swear, two months shortages didn't nearly kick up such a fuss when I was running the vents..."

"Of course, I suppose their distress kept them noticing that look on your face. What bit of news could my irresponsible grandson have?... You didn't knock up Donya's niece did you?"

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion's frown lingered even after his grandmother's assurances. She was easily the strongest person he-and probably the entirely clan-knew. Truthfully, the veteran huntress's ability to soldier on through sheer will and band-enabled grit was a feat in and of itself. That didn't make it any easier to see the ravages of time demand ever-greater tolls from his grandmother and mentor.

The frown vanished as soon as they were both ready to leave the secluded alleyway. By now, their routine of the indomitable politician and her cheery grandson was so well-rehearsed that Orion scarcely need to put any thought or effort into his own faint smile and playfully deflecting comments on the off-chance someone tried to drag him into the informal negotiations with his grandmother had to wrangle with. Even so, the young man exhaled and audibly relieved breath once they finally made it back to the relative safety of the family home.

"Is someone agitating them on purpose? I only caught the end of that meeting, but Donya sounded restless and I imagine his family feels the same way."

Political small-talk would only delay the inevitable and, even though she she'd traded her hunting leathers for councilor's attire, Tysera was ever the one to get straight to the heart of any matter.

"Ancestors, no!" Orion stiffened and flinched in just the right way to put strain upon his poor ribs. He'd dealt with more than his fair share of pain before, enough to avoid gasping or grunting, but a sharp-eyed observer might have caught the involuntary twitch in his face. "I'm not that...I do take precautions, grandmother."

He huffed in mock-indignance.

"I went with Ilyanna into the warrens today-no she's not knocked up either-, and we found something big. Literally." Orion moved to pull up a seat or lean against a wall. Anything that would have made him marginally more comfortable. "A ship. Ilyanna thinks it might like the ones the ancients used to travel among the stars in those stories. Several families could live in there easy, though. The biggest hexapuma I've ever seen and her litter made it their den, though. Manage to clear them out, but...ngh...me and the ship took a pounding when it fell."

 

[Xatarias]

Tysera grunts in disappointment as she trudges to her reed mat in the corner.

"Pity. Just the prospect of you being willing to commit to a woman would have been a great boon to our cause. Plenty of families on the council are looking to reinvigorate their bloodlines. I'm trying to give you choice in the matter, but realize the longer you delay..."

No sooner has she knelt when your mother emerges with a steaming pot of herbal tea. Even before Tysera takes a sip of the tea, she shucks her blouse, modesty preserved only by an under-wrap. Her hard withered physique slumps and she exhales slowly. The fiery traces of her bands take far longer to die down than even a novice warrior would feel comfortable with, but you know commenting on it would only meet a sharp retort.

She listens to your story while sipping her tea, eyes cast downward in a manner you recognize as thoughtful- meditative even.

"This certainly does change things," She says as you finish. "I want you to tend to those injuries, but make it clear to everyone that you aren't able to lead the next few expeditions. We will use this time to solidify our position. We stand to gain much influence with the next Trials- enough younglings making the passage might even award us a second council seat this year. Oversee the up-and-comers and make it public and obvious what you are about. If we fall into a victory, I want it to be to your credit."

She empties the dregs of her tea cup with a sharp rap and gestures for you to pour a second portion.

"As for your little adventure, it comes at an awkward time. Donya and his cronies would most certainly lead the charge for the ship to be scrapped, and it would be hard to argue against it since the foundries have nearly chewed through all our reserves. We need steel more than a new project for the shamans to tinker with..."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

"The greater the chances that you're just going to have to pick some strapping woman to keep your rowdy, irresponsible grandson tied down," Orion grinned wryly. He'd half-expected her to say something like that. In a way, this was another of the routines they'd rehearsed.

...Much like his and Ilyanna's own dancing around the issue of commitment.

The young warrior tried to look only moderately concerned while Tysera sipped her tea and pondered his report. Each second and every heartbeat seemed to stretch out for an eternity until she finally spoke again. Orion had to suppress the urge to exhale in relief.

"I'll handle it," He nodded and spoke with a bit too much eagerness to be entirely casual.

"Ilyanna seemed certain the vessel would be scrapped if the entire clan learned of it, and I've seen enough of how hard the maintenance crews have been struggling to agree that's what will happen if the matter is brought up for debate," Orion gently poured the fresh tea from the pot into Tysera's waiting cup. Now it was his eyes that were downcast in thought. "It's not working now, but if it did that ship would make the skimmers look like children's toys. The clan can probably find more scrap elsewhere, but what are the odds of us finding something like this again?"

Orion set the teapot aside and leaned back to sit across from his grandmother.

"I don't know what to make of Ilyanna's thoughts on it being a starship, but it doesn't need to live up to that to change things for the clan. If our usual hunting grounds are running low on supplies, we could use it to search for fresher lands to send expeditions to."

 

[Xatarias]

"Remarkable how willing you become to heed my advice when it puts you near that girl," Tysera notes wryly before taking another sip from her steaming mug. "She has no family and will have no prospects once she is inducted. I hope you aren't entertaining any unrealistic fantasies."

Her words are light, but there is steel behind them. Your grandmother has often put up with your less than enthusiastic attitude as her successor, but this was one subject with which she brooked no quarter. Commitment towards a penniless priestess might be the stuff of ballads, but it was also a sure fire way to erode your family's influence. You were overdue for a beneficial political marriage, but something always managed to get in the way... Were you really so starry-eyed after one kiss that Tysera sniffed a threat to her oh-so-carefully crafted plans?

Mercifully she lets the matter drop with a grunt.

"Regardless, I don't think the council can afford another distraction. I'm barely exerting enough leverage to keep those idiots from ordering a raid. You can tell your shaman that her secret is safe for now... Who knows, if that girl is half as brilliant as you say, maybe something worthwhile will come of it. Keep an eye on it."

Before you can speak, she raises a warning finger.

"But your other duties come first. Don't make me regret this, Orion."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion's body subtly tensed at his grandmother's wry observation. Thoughts of "that girl" played as much a part in his survival of Tysera's trials as any fond memories he had of his family. It didn't help that the young man knew Tysera would follow it up with a sharp verbal jab and knew exactly where it would land. He did his best to simply sit there stoically while his grandmother dismissed the only person besides his own family to show him affection-frustrating and confusing as it was at times-as an orphan without a future who was unworthy of his consideration.

Orion probably didn't succeed. Narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw at least would have offered windows into what he truly thought of that.

Awkward silence reigned for a few moments that stretched out into a torturous eternity for the young warrior. In it's own way, it might have spoken louder than any heated exchange. Tysera might have been merciless in her campaign to see her grandson joined in a union that would promise both power and stability, but Orion was not without his own steel and guile on that front. Luck and coincidence had played a part in delaying a direct confrontation on the matter, but would all the somethings have really stymied a cunning and determined politician of Tysera's calibur if Orion hadn't taking advantage of those opportunities one way or another?

He'd certainly had time to consider how to do it. The prospect of being strong-armed into a marriage he was...apprehensive of had hung over Orion's head from the moment it became clear that he had the potential to do so much more than merely survive his passage into adulthood.

In any case, the tension in the air and his body began to face once Tysera's grunt signaled the change in subject. In fact, the blond very nearly perked up and opened his mouth to eagerly thank his grandmother for taking the gamble.

Tysera's raised finger and stern warning gave him pause for an instant.

"I won't, grandmother," Orion's smile was slight but sincere.

Maybe you'll even be impressed enough to change your mind...!

Something that tribal matriarch almost certainly would have considered one of his unrealistic fantasies graced Orion's thoughts. Even if Tysera could barely bothered to recall Ilyanna's name at times, perhaps this was the chance he'd long dreamed of to bridge the gap between them. She didn't want him getting involved with someone she believed had little to offer his family, much less the entire clan. Maybe that did sum up Ilyanna the eccentric shaman to most...but what about Ilyanna: the visionary delivered the solution to so many of the clan's woes on metal wings? If they could get that vessel restored and if it lived up to even half the potential Ilyanna thought it could, then the sheer prestige from that...it'd have to count for something even in Tysera's withering eye. It wouldn't be the same as the well-known and entrenched political power marrying into another councilmember's family would give, but it'd be something he could leverage that the elder huntress couldn't just dismiss as youthful exuberance or puppy love outstaying its welcome.

...But first, he would need to run it all by Ilyanna. She'd wanted to discuss the future with him as soon as he was done meeting with his grandmother, and all the fantasies in the world would remain just that if the techno-priestess had any real doubts over what she wanted out of all this.

 

[Xatarias]

The conversation ends when your mother enters the room with her medical bag and ventilator. She kneels nearby, quietly asking questions while setting the machine's functions and looping the mask around your grandmother's face. Your role in maintaining Tysera's facade was over for the day, but it was a family effort and you know your mother's advice would be better received without you gaping at the once mighty She-Wolf of house Firevein. Time to leave.

You slip out the back of your house, exiting through a window and sliding down the exterior of Skyhold's hull to a lower level.

From the numerous schematics Ilyanna hoarded, you knew that the ancient ship was once completely smooth, with an oblong fuselage designed to minimize heat upon entry into atmospheres. In her current landbound state, the denizens of Skyhold saw no reason to make modifications both functional and blatantly aesthetic. The result was a garish collection of bizarre windows with a bristling network of antennae and sensors. Not pretty, but ideal for intrepid climbers without the patience to navigate the crowds of the interior.

You streak past a group of shrieking younglings with dexterity that drew shouts of admiration. Luckily with gravity doing most of the work your current injuries prove little hindrance and you snag a handhold on the fourth level. Nonchalantly slipping through a porthole, you arrive at the temple courtyard.

The place bustles with the industrious pursuits of countless techno priests. To the untrained eye, it looks more like a junkyard than a sacred space. Here novices grappled with sparking wires and muscled warped pieces of scrap into submission all for the greater glory of the Great Heart and the people it sustained. Some creations that resulted would be accepted for replication at the Great Forge, but most would be scrapped and remade into something new.

You make your way to the temple proper. Ilyanna had long since graduated from the Proving Grounds and her brilliance had earned her a workplace within the bowls of the compound. Even though you are familiar with these labyrinth-like corridors, you still find yourself counting the turns and stairwells. Arriving at the rusty machine shop, you are greeted by a litany of curses.

"No Devin, blue wire, damn it! Careful, you don't want to cross-"

You barely manage to dodge out of the way as Ilyanna's assistant is launched airborne by a arm-like apparatus the size of a craigtusker. Ilyanna pops her head up from the bowels from the massive machine and removes her goggles with exasperation.

"He dead?"

Poor Devin raises his one arm with a thumbs up.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Some small part of Orion wondered if the spring in his step as he left the Firevein family home was unwarranted. He had his grandmother's failing health and all her expectations on one side and little more than the vaguest of promises from Ilyanna coupled with the somewhat questionable hope their little starship repair project offered on the other. It was easy for the young man to ignore, though. He'd had plenty of opportunity to practice the fine art of concentrating on what was good in the here and now over the infuriating mixture of potential inevitability that made up what he couldn't hope to control in the future.

Here and now, he was off to see one of the most important people in his life and having a splendid time doing it! The rush of air felt delightful against his mostly bared chest as he swung and climbed freely across the artificial forest that was Skyhold's sensors and antennae. It was a welcome change from the treacherous cables the hexapuma youngling tried to end he and Ilyanna on!

Younglings screamed joyfully up at Orion as he passed overhead. One of his hands gripped one of the larger antennae as he flew by it, allowed the rest of him to artfully twist around the metal and rest a foot atop its base. The young warrior offered his admirers a broad, confident smile and a bow before twisting back around just as artfully and leaping to seize a distant sensor that none without a powerful strength band and the experience to maximize it could have dreamed of reaching.

Grandma did want him inspire the clan's next batch of initiates, after all.

The rest of his journey to the temple was as smooth and uneventful as he could have ever asked for. Orion's crimson eyes briskly scanned the acolytes and the materials they struggled to weld, wire, and sculpt into something the clan could use. It was hard to believe that this could have been him if not for his grandmother...well, assuming he and Ilyanna could have steadied his hands enough without her...conditioning to handle such delicate machinery without cutting, crushing, burning or shocking-

Orion reflexively tensed at the familiar sound of machinery taking on a twisted life of its own. An instant later, a young man hurled by him so quickly and so closely that the young warrior could feel poor Devin's clothes scrape against him before Ilyanna's minio-assistant-landed in a fleshy heap.

"Your concern for your helpers is as touching as ever, Ilyanna," Orion managed to get a smirk going just in time to greet the techno priestess when she emerged from that...whatever it was. There was only the barest trace of irony in his tone.