"What... how did..." Bruad stuttered.

Deadrick waved him away and slowly got up, balancing on one leg; he tested the newly healed one.

"How did you do that?" Bruad asked.

Deadrick ignored him and scanned his surroundings; they were in the Mercantile District- the shops were all one storey buildings, with only the occasional odd one out.

There came a noise from the floor below, Bruad went to the edge and peered over. The guards had gotten to their feet and were regrouping.

They checked their injuries and then looked up at Deadrick and Bruad, their red eyes still burning sinisterly. They hissed and ran out of the alley.

“How is that possible?” Bruad repeated. Deadrick felt the powerful urge to punch him. Werewolves were fast healers, and much harder to kill than various other races- but Deadrick’s wounds had healed up in seconds.

“This isn’t the time for this,” Deadrick growled.

“This is the perfect time for this,” Bruad told him, “It’s not like those things can get up here- and it’s not like we can get down without the Windglider. So lets talk,”

Deadrick tried to ignore him, but he was speaking sense. The roof they were on was a good four metres away from the nearest other building- far too far for any normal human to jump.

But he was no normal human- he was Deadrick Blade.

Before Bruad could say anything, Deadrick had backed up to the edge of the building, and launched himself forward. He got to the other side in seconds, pushed himself into the air with the recently healed foot and dived across the gap below.

He rolled as he hit the roof and climbed to his feet, and looked back and Bruad, who pursed his lips, and transformed.

He jumped the gap and landed heavily on his paws next to Deadrick.

“They’ll get up here soon enough,” Deadrick said, brushing himself off, “We have to keep moving until Nerui and Danyel get here,”

“And if Juhra’s hired help get here first?” Bruad asked.

Deadrick tightened his jaw.

“Then we fight,” He said bluntly. He motioned to the next building along and ran towards the edge.

 

*

 

“Down there!” Nerui yelled, “I can see them!”

Danyel swung the wheel and the rotor twisted, jerking the ship towards the two figures waving on the rooftop below.

They dipped towards them; the balloon only just avoiding a small one man Windglider that whizzed passed them. The driver waved his fist.

“Take your time!” Deadrick said as the ship came level with the rooftop. He jumped across onto the deck.

“Traffics bad at this time of the day,” Nerui smiled. Deadrick made sure she couldn’t see his face before he allowed the corner of his mouth to curl.

“Any luck?” Danyel asked, striding across the deck.

His question was answered by a whizzing sound and an explosion of splinters close to Deadrick’s head, they all turned to see four armed soldiers aiming mean looking rifles with clawed hands directly at them.

Deadrick cocked his head at Danyel, who shook his head, and couldn’t help but smile.

“Nerui, get the fire, Danyel get us out of here!” Deadrick ordered, everybody scattered as Deadrick went to the edge of the ship, drew his gun and fired back. All of the shots hit their targets- the shins or thighs of the attacking soldiers, incapacitating them.

The Windglider pulled away as the soldiers hit the ground, hurt- but not dead.

“We need to get out of here- now!” Deadrick yelled. Danyel cried in agreement, pulling the wheel back, Nerui turned the fire up, and the Windglider began to climb, towards the city walls.

But of course- it wasn’t that simple.

They came another pop, but this one was louder. The ship rocked as something hit it.

“We’ve got company!” Bruad warned.

Deadrick leaned out the side, seeing something that made him angry.

Pursuing them was a Windglider- a big one, with a ship made out of thick impenetrable metal, and an evil looking row of fixed guns at the front. The balloon proudly displayed the Gael emblem.

But this was no government ship- it was a dangerous weapon in the hands of an insane and evil demon.

It was much bigger than the Ghost of The Inquisitor. A warship. But its size meant it was slower, and less agile.

“Danyel!” Deadrick yelled over the sound of another spray of bullets, “We need to get out of its firing line!”

Danyel nodded and yanked the wheel sharply; the Windglider shuddered and threw itself left, pulling backwards.

The Warship went under them and Danyel pushed the wheel. Suddenly, the Windglider dropped into position behind the gunship.

Deadrick had to act fast, before the demons on the gunship could react. He ran to the front of the ship, he climbed onto the dragonhead and unclipped his final grenade. He kissed it, and threw it with all of his strength.

It sailed through the air, lodging itself behind the rotor. Deadrick roared with an odd mix of glee and victory as it detonated, tearing the metal rotor from its base, sending it falling to the ground.

The whole warship shuddered, and without any sort of direction or power, it began to drift away, the wind its only source.

Deadrick watched as the now powerless gunship, began to descend. He hopped down from the dragonhead, exchanging a smug look with Danyel.

“Lets get out of here,” He said.

“Yes captain,” Danyel said, turning the wheel again, this time towards the setting sun.

 

 

 

 

 

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