Monday, July 6, 2015

Day Eight-Eighty-Two: Distractions abound

With distractions abounding from the west, Logan’s forces had no trouble sneaking up on the Non from the east.

Standing tall on the deck of the Sky Bitch, puttering along weakly though it was, Logan watched the wall of werewolves on the ground tear towards the Non’s rear lines. He’d been waiting for this opportunity for several hours, now, his force slyly stalking the Non for the better part of a day, goblin scouts returning report after report on their position. Most importantly, he’d been waiting for the Nothings to be too occupied with Imperium soldiers to counter their werewolves -

- and such was now the case, as the Nothings were riiiiight at the front of the action. Perfect timing.

“Might want to go after that smaller cluster on the right,” Logan murmured to Fynn, who was standing off to one side, his tarantula familiar on his shoulder. “Looks pretty thin. Be a good place to bust through.”

Fynn nodded. Sweat beading down his forehead, eyes blazing green, he turned his head slightly and furrowed his brow. The wave of werewolves below the ship immediately changed course, falling upon the small Non figures and engulfing them in a wave of brown. Logan thought he spotted Antonia’s massive back humping along in their midst, but he wasn’t sure.

Logan turned to his father, who was sitting at the comm station. “Any sign of the zombies? They pulling it up?”

Jeffrey shrugged. “Not yet. You know they’re slow. By the time they get here the battle will probably be over. I told you they’d be better as defenders than attackers.”

Logan mirrored the shrug. “We don’t need defenders right now, though. Guess we’ll just have to hope some of the Non decide to retreat in that direction.”

“You seem to think they will retreat.” Jeffrey craned his neck to peer out the cracked viewport. “We’re still kinda outnumbered, you know. And outgunned.”

Logan grimaced. It was true, unfortunately. Though the Non were caught between two forces, the pitch-black creatures appeared to still largely hold the advantage. Their forces were still incredibly strong and cohesive, and had bowled through and parted the Imperium’s army quite effectively. Logan wasn’t sure why so many of the Imperium’s troops were out here, but the fact didn’t seem to be making much of a difference - especially now that the dragons seemed to have departed from the battlefield.

“Well, we’d better change that.” Logan grimaced, then turned to Fynn. “Can you spare some time for a rumble, kiddo?”

Fynn shook his head. The voice that came out of his throat, Logan could tell immediately, did not belong to him. “We’re a little busy. If we try to go down there now we’ll lose control of the werewolves. Sending them out like this already has us walking a knife’s edge.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Logan patted Fynn’s free shoulder. He had to stretch his arm to reach it, as Fynn had apparently decided to be tall today. “Tell Fynn we’re gonna get his mom back. No problem.”

Fynn hesitated, eyes twitching. “But… why is she out here, again?”

Logan opened his mouth, then closed it again. His hand fell away. He thought about the question for a second, almost formulated an answer, and then gave up. “I, uh… well, she’s just out here, is all. We know she is. That’s good enough. We’ll get ‘er back. And… Fynn’s dad, wherever he - “

“Sighting confirmed!” one of the crew yelled, staring out the viewport with wide eyes. “There he is! He’s going after the werewolves!”

Logan spun around, following the tech’s extended finger. Logan almost immediately spotted the bulky form of Kierkegaard, his usual jaunty top hat back on his skeletal head, pushing his way through his troops. He was heading towards the werewolves, a hungry expression evident on his face from even this distance. Logan wondered why the Non wasn’t bothering to teleport - he seemed to enjoy using his portals most of the time - but quickly shrugged it off. That didn’t matter right now.

“Shit.” Logan bit his thumb, thinking quickly. “He’s gonna fuck them up, isn’t he? I was hopin’ he wouldn’t notice.”

“Pr… probably.” Even from several feet away, Logan could tell that his father had begun to shiver. “He’s… he likes that sorta thing. One-track mind - “

Turning, Logan ordered the crew of the Sky Bitch to keep the ship out of the fracas. It was still damaged, and wouldn’t do too well in a fight without extensive repairs from Libby. The crew seemed quite happy to remain on the fringes. Logan strode towards the stairs to the guts of the airship.

“Where are you going?” Jeffrey said, cutting himself off and standing. “Aren’t… I thought you were - “

They need a distraction to do their work,” Logan insisted as he ran down the stairs, a weight in the pit of his stomach. “That’s just about the only thing I’m good at, old man!”

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