For the rest of the flight, the enemy airship kept its distance - either deliberately or they just didn't have as strong of an Air Mage. They didn't attempt to cloak themselves again either.
"We'll have to land soon," Tulani reports to Alptraum. "Do you want to try concealing us again? Gusty claims he can put on another burst of speed, which could get us into the Forbidden Zone's own mirage - but he can't risk any traditional magic once we're inside. Everything he has will need to be shut down before we coast in. And he has no idea how any of Caradoc's magic links will behave if we do cross into the Zone."
"I should conceal again. They're still up there and I don't want them to know where we land," Alptraum agrees. He comes back to the center of the deck and kneels down. "Warning, I am cloaking," he calls out to alert the crew. Then that's exactly what he does. On exhale, the shadow billows from him one more, flowing out, expanding, and engulfing the ship and everyone on it. In the core of darkness, that erie sort of flayed-body-pulsing veings that glows of Alptraum returns.
"Going to have us change course and put on speed as soon as you're done then," Tulani says, heading back to where Gusty is working. Things start to get hazy, as the ship begins to appear more like a mirage seen from a distance, even though it's right under your nose. The archers position themselves defensively again: Koth next to Gusty and Rag next to Alptraum. Spinner veers off toward the other airship, hoping to get them to focus on the threat she poses rather than try and keep track of the cloaked ship.
"Everyone, be careful. No unnecessary risks," Alptraum reminds, though sounding distracted. It takes a lot of concentration to cover such a large area AND hold it.
Since he's essentially extending himself to cover everything, he's more acutely aware of the approaching Forbidden Zone. Once the cloak is complete, there's a sense of acceleration and wind as Gusty burns the rest of his spell into a final burst of speed. It doesn't last long, and then the airship is coasting - although the shadow cloak may be mitigating some of the air resistance. A few more minutes and they'll past the threshold into the Zone proper, where traditional magic will become unpredictable: but artifacts (and Alptraum himself) won't be as particularly effected. And hopefully and tracking enchantments will be scrambled as well.
"We're getting close to the forbidden zone! If we continue as we are, we're going to hit the edge! We need to slow down, or not rely on magic soon!" Alptraum calls out to the crew as loud as he can. "I can feel it, it's like this oily soap bubble on the horizon."
It doesn't feel like any magic is running other than Alptraum's own. "Call out as soon as we're through," Tulani calls. "I can't see very far through the cloak, and we don't want to get too close to the dead city."
"No problem, I'll know the moment we do," Alptraum calls back. His eyes are closed since, well, he's sensing through shadow, not his body.
It's a weird way to perceive the world, more omnidirectional than Barsunala-vision and but much less acute, more like touch, if the sense of touch extended a few feet past ones own skin. The transition into the Forbidden Zone isn't a sudden one. It's more like wading deeper into a pond until fully submerged. Everything then feels different. Not like Valley of Mist, but still alien. Just.. a drier sort of alien.
"We're passing the outer edge now," Alptraum calls out. "It's like wading into water, it's going to get worse the deeper we go. So, make sure you do whateer it is you're doing soon!"
The actual skeleton crew goes into action, bringing the airship down. They were already pretty high up to take advantage of the wind, so now the descent feels even more like submerging. Gas is pumped from the buoyancy cells into the storage tanks to bring them down. "Landing may be sudden and rough, so everyone brace as best they can, especially everyone below deck!" Tulani calls.
"Should I cut cloaking soon so we can see where we are landing?" Alptraum calls out, keeping the cloak where it is for now. It's a risk to ladnd without seeing, or to uncloak and be spotted. It all depends on how big...
"Once we're fully in," Tulani replies. "I remember the air pressure in here from last time, so we've still got about a thousand feet of descent, and thrice that in forward travel."
"Or thereabouts! I can feel the change by the second," Alptraum calls back. "It's like ... having slugs crawling under your skin, and the further we go, the more slugs there are!"
"Are you sure they aren't real slugs?" Tulani replies after running from stem to stern checking on things. The warriors are at the rails, looking down and forward for any threats. Luckily, or not, the barren ground is devoid of any rocks or boulders, being more of a cracked, baked clay expanse. "Drop the cloak, Alptraum!" Tulani calls. The ship shudders as the envelope expands and contracts with the changes in internal and external pressure.
"Yes, I'm sure! I know what those feel like too," Alptraum calls back, "Remember the things I deal with and have to turn into! Everyone, steady, this place doesn't get bad until we're close to the city here, and we are not getting THAT close."
Pulling in the shadow also lets in the dry, stale air of the plain. Babelite airships prefer to make entirely vertical take offs and landings where the ground is involved, since they really aren't made for landing at all. Most airships aren't, but the spikes and spines prevent the use of landing skids. Without Air Magic or Spinner's Ptera to brake with, the lower spines start to gouge into the crumbly ground. This leads to them either breaking off or the ship jerking and twisting erratically depending on which side is digging in more. Eventually it does stop, but the deck is definitely at an angle now. The crew immediately go to work pressurizing the cells again to try and get them back to neutral buoyancy.
Alptraum has ended up rolling a bit on the deck, and is now upside down with his feet dangling over his head and forward a bit. "Ow," he comments from this undignified position. "Can't you land any better, Tulani!? That was rough!"
"We needed to land fast, and we couldn't use magic, there's no wind in this place and Spinner is busy keeping the other airship busy," Tulani says. "Hopefully she's driving them into the Zone with their Mage still working. Apparently doing that while hitting a Forbidden Zone can catapult you half way around the world!"
"Don't draw the light in here," Alptraum warns," That's how this place was made in the first place." He rolls to the side, then mach to his feet. And up, dusting himself off, no worse for wear. "I hope we don't get yelled at for the ship damage."
"We have to make it back to Babel for that," Tulani says. "So I would rather look forward to being yelled at."
Cyprian emerges from the aft-castle. "This place is giving me a headache," he notes. "And I could start to see Caradoc through the shadow layer."
"Well, I promise all of YOU will make it back. The last part, the ritual, that is mine to deal with. All of you could withdraw on foot to a safe distance," Alptraum offers.
"Do we need to debark the passengers for it?" Cyprian asks. "I don't know how much safer it will be on the ground, but it probably isn't as explosive as the airship."
"Honestly, I don't think it will matter. I just need everyone in the same room, including Mr. Evil," Alptraum admits and rubs his forehead. "If you can help me get people in position, then you're all welcome to leave the ship and go far. I'll even give you a few hours to make distance," he offers. "Then I will begin. If you want to stay, you can. Just ... I don't want anyone here feel obligated to it. You have done your duty. The rest is mine. I am here to protect you, all of Babel."
"And I'm here to watch your back, as much as I'm able," Cyprian claims. "Let's see if Trilby says the men can move."
Alptraum nods. "Thank you. For as much shit and jokes as I make, I do take this seriously. I care about all of you, even Spinner. I don't want to harm anyone," says as he heads for the door to the lower deck.
There is some moaning, as not everyone secured themselves with same amount of success. Mr. Straw is literally still holding two pieces of timber in his hands that failed to support his weight during the landing. Trilby is checking everyone, either applying salve and bandages or yelling for men to suck it up or you'll never get a girlfriend.
"Don't yell at me about the landing," Alptraum says right off. "Now, can people here be moved? I need to gather evertyone together, along with the jerk in the other room."
"Yes, no sprained ankles or broken legs and that means you Mr. Fluff, I don't care if The Big Clumsy Rhian sat on you," the Skeek declares. "This thing has cargo doors right?"
"I have no idea," Alptraum admits. "Why?"
"Because they're in the floor, and there's usually an elevator.." she looks around. There are lots of pulleys and ropes about, but they could be for anything. "I can't just have Mr. Straw jump up and down and hope something gives way," she notes. "Well, actually I can and I'm sure he'd do it too.."
"We need one of the actual crew," Cyprian says. "I don't know anything about cargo loading on airships."
"Fine, moment," Alptraum says as he marches back out to the deck. "Hey, Catbutt! Does this ship have a hold elevator?" he asks.
It takes a few moments before Tulani appears. "Let's see, Bosun Batbutt," she says, and starts wading through men. "This is a small ship, it may just have.. this," she announces, clearing some fallen items from a relatively small panel in the floor, which is connected to ropes. It's about four-foot-square. "It.. should probably work, but may be tricky since we aren't level. Let the big boys down on it, and the others can probably just slide down the ropes. We're only about six feet off the ground here."
"Lower Mr. Straw on it, and he can just lift down everyone else," Mr. Bright suggests.
"I think that's a great idea, spiral snoot," Alptraum comments to Mr. Bright.
"Snoot?" the Aeonian asks, and rubs his nose. There's a big blob of rubber still stuck to the end of his horn for safety. Tulani undogs the various latches until the floor panel shifts slightly. "Alright, Mr. Straw please step forward.. and put down those pieces of wood."
"I'll stand over here," Alptraum offers. And moves ---> over thre.
The big horse tucks in his arms and has to stand at a diagonal to make his shoulders clear with enough space, then Tulani starts working the pulleys to lower him down. His head is still sticking up through the hole once the platform hits the ground.
"We may need Mr.. ugh.. Vartan," Cyprian says, gesturing to Mr. Stitch, "to carry Caradoc down."
"No, I will deal with the mage. I'm sorry, but ... no," Altpraum says and rubs his face. "I will try to compensate with my shadow."
"You've just handled hiding the whole ship," Cyprian points out, but doesn't really press the point. Mr. Straw is already unloading people.
"If you wear yourself, remember that I'll be the one looking after you," Trilby says. It doesn't sound like a threat or warning though.
"Either way, we should get him out of the cabin," Cyprian says.
"I know, but Mr. Stitch ... there are concerns on trust, sorry," Alptraum admits and sighs. "Unless he will come and I watch closely, anyway," he offers and loots to the Vartan.
"That's fine, I mainly want someone else with wings who can break Caradoc's wings if necessary," Cyprian says. "I can still tell if Mind Magic is being used, but in this place I don't dare attempt any of my own."
"Well, all right, then after you, Beaks," Alptraum asks of Mr. Stitch and gestures to the door.
They all three go up to the deck, and Stitch just sort of pauses at the door to the aft-castle (or aft-shed really). "I can wait here," he offers. The short hall inside is pretty cramped after all.
"Wait with him, Cyprian," Alptraum requests. He's then heading into the aft castle alone.
The shell around Caradoc is nearly transparent now, even though the man's head is still hidden inside the box-like isolation mask. He's been secured to his seat with a rope, since he's locked into the sitting position anyway.
"Sit, it's breaking down," Alptraum growls and marches over. Shadow rolls out and wrpas around his arms and legs. He tries to grab Caradoc and heft him up, using the shadow itself as sort of 'extra muscle' to try and compensate for his own strength limits."
The captive mage is still fairly light, due to be old and starved (and Alptraum is Sylvanian). The hardest part is getting him down the short hallway to the deck outside, since the tilted floor just makes everything more awkward.
Walking bow-legged for balance, Alptraum waddles his way to the door, and out.
Cyprian doesn't comment, since he's having listing to one side still himself. "How's the shell holding up?" he does ask though.
"It's starting to go. I'd like to cut the lines quickly, versus expend energy on re-enforcing it," Alptraum admits as we waddles. "Hey, Beaks, got cargo for you!"
Stitch has to maneuver the frozen mage until he can get a good grip, since he can't exactly sink his talons in. "This.. is the Doctor's boss?" he asks. "Does he have multiple faces or a bare skull or somethin' scary?"
"No, he's thousands of years old, and responsible for the rebirth of the Sabbaoth, and virtually every alchemical horror unleashed in Babel," Alptraum explains. "Old and smart, which makes him dangerous."
"Ah, yeah, old," Stitch says, with emphasis. He apparently isn't used to being around old people. "Where you want 'im?"
"Down with all the others. Him on one side, them on the other. About ten feet between them." Alptraum explains and moves close, just in case.
Stitch hops over the railing, gliding out past the edges of the spikes before landing. The others are milling about and looking nervous. Especially the Cervani, who don't remember their imprisonment by the Royal Mages.
Alptraum walks to the edge and jumps off, letting his shadow-boosts dissipate in the process. So, he leaves a nice smokey trail in his wake as he alights upon the ground and folds his wings in. "Who is going to remain of the crew, and who will be withdrawing at distance?" he asks.
Sprinkle and Pith are also on the ground with the men and Trilby, who is making her way towards Stitch and Caradoc. The others have stayed with the airship crew (since they have ranged weapons) and Tulani is on the ground but not really with any of the groups.
"So, no one. Great," Alptraum says and sighs, and rubs over his face. He goes about positioning the prisoners, politely, so that they're ten feet from Caradoc, and as close together as possible. "I have to sever the binding all at once," he explains, "So, close as you can, please. Closer is better. Just leave me room between you and him."
It takes some maneuvering to get everyone bunched together (with some being on top of others). Caradoc is on his side by necessity. Trilby is keeping her distance, standing in the shadow of the airship, and Cyprian is finishing an examination of the still sealed up Royal Mage. "I don't sense anything," he reports. "We may have missed something though. We still don't know what the implants are, if they're artifacts or just decoys."
"I know. We've planned all we can. Now we have to do is act. If we don't, we may was well concede," Alptraum says and sighs. He stretches upward, then folks his wings back tight. "Right," he says, louder," Here is where I will be scary. Everyone, I am no threat to any of you, I am here to protect and help you. But to do that, I have to become ... a monster of a sort. All of you are safe. Hold together. Close your eyes if you must. And please, trust me. I know many of you have no reason to, the Eeee have not been kind to any of you. But I am asking you, in spite of that, please trust me. I believe all life is precious."
"I see the other airship!" Tulani calls from back at their own ship. "Looks like they're crashing a few miles away!"
"Right, no time like the present, then," Alptraum says and pulls the dagger from his right arm. It pulls out leaving goo, blood, and sort of entrails in its wake. He breathes in, then out, and closes his eyes. For this, only one thing will do, the wraith; the vengeful side of the Barsunala; the soul reaver, the hunter. The one that cuts the ties that bind a soul to this world. His body ... crackles, and starts to draw in, thinning out, gaunt. wings ripple, holes form, then tears. Ash and smoke roll from him, crafted from the shadow, but driven by lore and believe. "Trust in me," he rasps, blind-white eyes opening and looking towards Caradoc. "Trust."
He doesn't see the expressions on the men, but since Caradoc is also in a quasi-dead state he does see through the mask to his expression. The man has had a smug expression all this time. The dagger practically vibrates in the Wraith's hand as well. Anticipation? Hunger? Can it feel anything? Or it may just be that the daggers feels more real to the Wraith than anything else at the moment.
Alptraum is looking for the threads through his senses. It's not seeing, exactly. He approaches slowly, close to that entombed monster.
He can sense them, in a sonar sort of manner. They hum and vibrate, like the strings of an instrument. Although it might also be the symbolic screams of the Eeee skins used to create the cords in Babelite myth.
Alptaum's right hand curls and sweeps, trying to collect up the threads and draw them into a single bundle. If he can do this, he'll close those claws, hold that bundle ... and the knife is ready.
There's resistance, so the threads are real enough to him in this state. As he gathers them, Caradoc begins to stir. Not physically, but in a more spiritual sense. It appears as if he's being superimposed onto his own body.
"The binds that tie are not yours to own, monster. You have haunted Babel for far too long," Alptraum rasps as that grip tightens. He rolls the knife in his left hand. "Your corruption of the natural order ends, today. By Sunala's will and my hand, I sunder your ties to the innocent." His left hand draws quick and clean, as he tries to sever the threads all in one, clean, stroke.
It feels disconcertingly like cutting through meat. The strands do break, but don't vanish or go limp: each end reels to its remaining anchor. The ones returning to Caradoc glow brightly to Wraith sight, disturbingly like fuses.
"Everyone, RUN!" Alptraum rasps, loudly. He leaps towards that entombed monster and shadow billows out. It wraps around both of them like a sphere and goes solid!
The outside world is blocked out. The Wraith 'hears' something like breaking crystal. And then a beating sound that is familiar and wrong. Hidden away in one of the mysterious implants, and apparently tied in to the larger spell, was a black heart.