"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[Stella Gaslight]

George arranged the tank's limbs to the others could climb up easily, the quicker they got out of view the better.  He to special care to lift Emma gently out of the hole.  "Patrick I am leaving her in your care, if anything happens to her it is coming out of your hide."  He crawled out of the hole last using his bulk to shield them from prying eyes until they reached a alcove that provided an excellent vantage to shoot from.  "You have the aetherphones try not to be so dammed reckless and call if you need my help."  George with a grace one would not expect a tank to have eased his way out of the large wooden doors. With luck they would just think he was another cold one until it was far to late to stop him. 

Emma listen hard in the patch of shadow somewhere there were people chanting in otherworldly tones.  Angel did not like the sounds they were making it set her teeth on edge.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

As they made their way up, there was a sudden shaking of the ground. Elisha held on to Emma. It almost seemed like...reality was being shaken.

"What the...hell was that?" he said.

"Something...a fault in the Aether." offered Rowland. "Of course, that's technically impossible, but..."

"A portal" said Elisha. "We've heard rumours of that. I guess it's not a rumour." He paused.

"Damn it. There's just not enough time. We may need to split up to get all the objectives. Some take the Cathedral, some take the Tsar. Then we'll all rendezvous for the Queen."

He paused again, before turning to Dreyfuss.

"I'm going to face the Tsar. Normally I'd wish to do this alone...but I think I've learned otherwise. But...well, I feel my vendetta against him is personal. More than five years I spent in the North-West. The Russian armies ravaged Alaska and thousands of Britain, Canadians and Russians died in those campaigns. And...now...it was all the manipulation of one...thing. Who willingly sacrificed people to weaken humanity as a whole. I...there needs to be payment for that. I know it's dangerous as he's the most powerful Commodore. But you seem to have an odd knack at killing them. I propose that you, Abe Ella and I try to track him down."

He turned to the others. "I advise you make some sort of plan. And...don't approach any Commodores with less than four people. Preferably with Cain, Angel, Patrick or Jen. We can only hope that we move fast enough to take them by surprise."

--------

Tobias walked into Morana's room. The room was lighted, which was odd. Dust covered the furniture and the fire did little to keep the cold out. Morana sat on the bed, her dark hair contrasting her pale face and small frame. But something was wrong. Morana was sitting up, looking healthier - but weeping. And...his uncle was here.

"Ah, Tobias." he said. "Glad to see you. You will be happy to know I cured her.

"What the hell do you mean?" said Tobias, warily.

"Well, it's dangerous for humans here. I graciously administered the Cold One biology to her. She's safe from the disease."

Tobias leapt at his uncle, smashing him across the face.

"Damn you! I told you I wanted her to have no part in this! Not without me here! She's not some...some lab rat!"

Viktor calmly gripped Tobias' hand. This was enough to subdue his nephew.

"Enough." he said. "You are inferior and have no place to interfere in my projects. I really was doubtful of these creatures...but I think they just might do it. I'm leaving now, Tobias. The work is nearly complete. When it's over, you, The Cold Ones, humanity - all dead. Perfection."

Viktor left. Tobias rushed to Morana, comforting her. He then stepped to the window, wings stretching.

"I'm sorry" he said. "I'm sorry. But now...I have to make things right." He leapt down. His uncle was fast, so he must be faster. He needed to burn that lab to the ground.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss pulled two "Mondragons" out of his bag. He put one in each outside coat pocket, the wooden tubes looking a bit like oversized, chopped-off cigars.

"Just in case," he said, and "Lead on." HE turned to Irene, and said, "go with my blessing, cher cousin. Take care of them; they will take care of you. And may we all take care of each other."

----------------------
Abe chimed in, "Aye, for me as well. Lead on, Elisha, and we will hunt this villain"

Rosie hissssed fiercely in agreement.

[MWBailey]

AS the groups separated, Dreyfuss thought of something, and went  back to Emma, and asked, "How many of those aetheric damping grenades do you have, emma? May I take one?"

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick cracked his knuckles and drew his Heat-round loaded rifle, awaiting Jen and Emma. Cain stood by his Brother, not wanting to see battle the commodore with so Few people. Cain rather wanted to slow this conquest down as much as possible so that he might keep Angel alive longer.
"Good luck Elisha, you are a mighty warrior, I have no doubt you will destroy this Tsar." Cain gave him an encouraging smile, having no doubt in his mind that he would suceed.

Something in Patrick's bag stirred, Scraps barked urgently and lept from Patrick's satchel, rushing to Elisha's side.
"Looks like ye have one more cohort on yer side." Patrick chuckled.
"Scraps is a good fighter, just be sure to put him somewhere with ALOT of metal. He'll take care of tha rest." Patrick spoke as if he were explaining a weapon's functionality. Scraps responded with a high-pitched, mechanical bark as his egg-whisk beat the air as if it were an invisible egg.

[Stella Gaslight]

"I was only able to make twelve but you can most certainly take one."  She pressed the orb in to his hand.  "Be careful and good luck."  Emma squared her shoulders, they had work to do.  They crept along the empty passage guns ready as the chanting grew louder and louder.

One walked up to the city gates no one bothered him it was almost like being invisible. He knew where George was as he trundled across the city.  George had a unique feel and one could find him anywhere.  George was rather glad to find pathways big enough for the arbiter tank all the way up the top of the wall.  Right as he made it to the top One shot up distracting the crew manning the gun so George could easily take them out.  He smiled perhaps the Monkey's crazy plan would work.   

[MWBailey]

You as well, Emma," dreyfuss said warmly, then turned and hurried back to Elisha and the others. With the Aether Damper safely in his bag, Dreyfuss rejoined the others, now with the addition of Scraps, who barked and pawed Elisha's satchel. Elisha sort of smirked, and reched down and picked up the mechanical mutt, and put him in his satchel, where scraps, apparently happy, settled in for the ride. They said their goodbyes, and set off in the direction that seemed to be the right one, judging by their joint impressions.
---------------------------
Abe spoke up, "Old One?
"Yes, Abe?" Dreyfuss answered.
"Your bag is not so very large, compared to Elisha's and Patrick's satchels, or the others' bags..."
"You're wondering how everything fits in, aren't you..."
"Well, yes, I am. I don't mean to pry of course, but it has bothered me for some time."
Dreyfuss laughed quietly. "Well, I suppose I can tell such good friends," he said. "it's actually not a big secret."
------------------------------------------------------
"you've heard of the Crane Bag? Old Irish/Scottish legend?" Dreyfuss asked.
"No, I don't think I have," Abe answered.
"Well, its like this: An ancient Irish hero (or Irish god, depending on whom you ask), had a bag made from the skin of a crane. The crane being a mystical bird by the ancient Irish and scots' estimation, the bag had special magical qualities; the main one was that, no matter how much was put into it, the Crane Bag always had room for one more item."

"THAT is the crane bag!?" Abe was astounded.

"No! no,no.." chuckled Dreyfuss, "this bag was made for me by my Uncle Caractacus Dreyfuss, just before I left to be a fifer in General Sam's army; he was a slightly famous magical practitioner in the colonias, when Texas was still a Spanish territory. He told me the story, then he gave me this bag, and said that this was not the crane bag, and that I could tell by the fact that it had pouches for firearm ammo and such, and various other features, but," he lowered his voice, as it was threatening to echo, "he said that it does share the crane bag's capacity. Now, I 'd hesitate to try to fit the four of us in it and ship us back to England, but it does hold all my various belongings that I'd need to use pockets for otherwise."

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick couldn't help but shake the feeling as if he should have gone with the others to battle the Tsar. This thought was subsided when he knew Jen wanted to do battle with those who owned this church. Patrick himself felt disgusted at the idea of desecrating a place so much like that in which he grew up. As the chanting grew louder, his grip on his gun intensified. Cain extended both Deus blades and prepared himself for battle.
Patrick slowly opened the massive wooden doors that lead to the main altar.

A circle of men dressed all in blacks and blues chanted words older than time itself. From the shadows of their hoods stared milky eyees, whitened with stoic madness.
"It appears we have pilgrims." A man in far more ornate robes chuckled. A bone rosary hung from his neck. A cross wrapped in tentacles dangled from its end, a pendulous symbol of heresy that mocked the god he claimed to service.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel snapped her wings open and scowled at the man.  "You twisted the song."  She said in a tone of utter dislike.  "You are a bad man."  Energy hummed through her pulsing with the true song.  Suddenly tentacles wound their way out of his robes and the battle was begun.  The space was tight and that made it harder for the cultists to use their scimitars bit it also made gunfire more risky.  Emma was small and fast so she would dart out and knock the attackers back and let Cain and Patrick deal with them.  She found herself smiling, finally being small was an advantage in battle.     

[ShredsnPatches]

Jen took a deep breath until her lungs were bursting, and screamed. Her scream was at just the right pitch to disrupt the chant that had been going on, and loud enough that the chanters startled and stopped. With her left hand she drew the box gun, with her right the spanner sword.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick let loose a furious cry of battle, attacking the cultists with vigor that could only be compared to that of an enraged crusader. His rapier sheathed itself into the stomach of an occultist before evacuating its residence to plunge itself through another cultist's skull. The priest watched the terrible battle with a twisted grin on his face.
"You have desecrated the house of the lord!" Patrick snarled, his words rang loud like wrathful church bells. His eyes blazed with white fire. "This affront will not be unpunished!" With this, he grabbed a charging cultist and broke his neck with a single twist of his hand, showcasing the strength of his conviction.
"Oh, it seems I've struck a chord, now have I? Who is more the sinner here? I have brought peace to these parts with my message." The priest said, as if he were doing charity. He pointed to Patrick with a clawlike finger.
"You, however, create godless abominations and cavort with witches and heretics!" He flashed Jen and Emma a glare. "you use Machines, tools of the devil to end the lives of those who sought to bring peace to this world! You are not doing god's work boy. You are truely a child of the devil! Your white flame is hellfire, and your skin marked with the etchings of satan!"

"I am so, damn TIRED of your ilk! God's work is not to ruin human lives to better your own! I love Jenniffer, no matter what she is! If she were a demon, or one of you I would still love her! Machined are creations of man, and in turn, creations of god! Your words have no bearing, and for your falsities, you will pay!" Patrick roared, charging at the tentacled priest. The fallen holy man unleashed a spray of tentacles, which Patrick artfully dodged, slicing one of them off with a sweep of his rapier.

Cain fought side by side with Angel, singing the true song by her side as he hacked at cold ones and cultists alike.

[MWBailey]

They had begun to cross the streets and alleys of the city, wending their way to where it seemed the Tsar was; roughly in the direction of the Winter Palace, yes, but to Dreyfuss it seemed as if the trace kept moving around; he had not, of course, been shown anything that belonged to the tsar or been given any clear idea of what the trace would feel like, so he could not absolutely guarantee that what he was following actually was the tsar, but he instinctively felt that it was the tsar, so he followed it. A certain element of the whitefire was involved in his tracking, so he trusted it for that reason as well.

Once, when they stopped to rest, Ella spoke up. "Dreyfuss."
"Yes, miss Ella?"
"were you serious about that 'magical bag' business?"
He thought a moment, and chuckled silently. "well, to be truthfiul, Uncle did mention the legend, and he did tell me that this," he said, putting his hand on the bag, "had peculiar properties, but in truth he didn't actually say that it would keep accepting one more item. He just sorta left that bit hanging, if you get my meaning." He hung his head then, and said, as if confessing, "So no, I'ts not an Irish hero's bag, and I dont really know for certain how it holds everything. It just seems to be the best explanation."

They all kept their goggles on, checking carefully all around for Cold One activity; twice, they barely managed to avoid a patrol; the first, of occultists in the company of a couple of weird-looking almost-humanoid walking squid things, like brutes but not as hefty; the second, a group of four arbiters, strode past on some urgent business, judging by their speed and their obliviousness.

All along the way, if they passed a streetlight or an electrical device ofd some kind, Dreyfuss took a small bit of fire from it (figuring that electricty and fire had a lot in common), as he had done with  the torches in the Aether League underhangar in Shanghai; he had it in his mind that it might be a good idea to fortify himself for the coming battle. He felt that it might not be a good idea to tell what he was doing, as the others might misunderstand.

Finally, they found themselves stealing glances around the corner of a building, in the shadows, at the gates of the Winter Palace, and the arbiters and brutes guarding them.

"So," Dreyfuss said, "do we find an easy way in, or just throw smoke and fire and blast 'em?"

[ShredsnPatches]

Jen's blade flashed and she divested another cultist of his head. Still screaming, she slashed and stabbed, shot and kicked her way through a swathe of cultists. She reached Patrick's side and looked sadly at the priest.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma was angry how dare that sub human creature talk to Patrick like that! She shot areounf the room like an enraged living cannonball while Cain and Angel made sure those she knocked down stayed down.   The cultist had taken strenght from there mad devotion but it was not enough to stop the crew soon it was down to Patrick and the cold one priest.

The choice was made for Dreyfus when a loud explosion rocked the ground.  The guard ran off to see just what had caused the rather large fireball.  "Monkey, that was the last of the cannons I will be headed your way shortly."  Came a tinny voice through the aetherphones.

[MWBailey]

"Attaboy Patrick! Looks like that's our cue," Dreyfuss said, and they skulked out of the shadows, through the negligently-open gates, across the gravel-and-stone-paved terreplein, and up the stone steps into the Winter Palace. Dreyfuss pulled the ring on one of his Mondragon grenades, leaving it in the shadow of teh gatepost, just to see how long it took to detonate and to see what would happen when it did.

Thirty seconds later, they were standing in one of the famed treasure rooms of the Winter Palace, practically filled with displays of armor and armaments, and Elisha decided this was the place to let scraps grow larger; he took the metallic mutt out of his satchel, and gave him the command to start the process --and then the world was ripped apart out by the front gates, the shockwave causing all sorts of things to crash from the walls in the room they were in, and all through the rest of the palace, by the sound of it. And then the things that fell suddenly began to coalesce around Scraps; swords and spearpoints becoming fangs and teeth, shields and breastplates clashing together around a core skull of metal safes...

Dreyfuss risked a sneaked look through a lower window; shockingly, where the gates had been was a gaping crater, what looked like several blasted-to-flinders arbiters, and bits of brutes splattered over the steps and the side of buildings across the street, a few of which had been caved in by the force of the blast. He turned to find Elisha and Ellla and Abe looking through the window, as if they had been peering over his shoulder. Elisha said, incredulously, "What in hell did you put in those things, Dreyfuss?"

"Eh, heh heh..." Dreyfuss laughed uncomfortably, and answered sheepishly, "you remember that grid I said was so unstable...?"

[Nigel Wetherby]

The priest's tentacles cracked like whips, smashing into the floor where Patrick had once been. The young man moved like St Michael, and no matter what tactics the priest employed, his thrusts and smashes always just missed him.
It was then, that the priest hatched an idea. With a flick of his wrist, a tentacle shot towards Jen, wrapping around her neck and hoisting her into the air, making his tentacle into a hangman's noose.
"How very fitting my holy gift would kill you like so many of your kind have already died." The priest laughed.
"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." He laughed as his grip tightened and Jen's struggling intensified.
"Cast it out." He twisted his tentacle, preparing to give a sudden whiplash that would snap Jen's neck like a twig. Patrick lept into action and hurled his rapier, stopping the potentially killing blow and pinning his tentacle to the church wall. The tentacle loosened, letting Jen drop harmlessly to the floor, caught by Angel before any real damage could be done.

Patrick took advantage of this distraction, tackling the corrupt priest and slamming his head into the floor, causing his hood to fall back. Patrick's eyes widened when he saw the true face of this mad priest.
"Father Niyazov?"
Father Niyazov was a terribly cruel priest responsible for many of the scars on Patrick's back (and a few in his mind).
"I knew you would become a pawn for the devil, boy! Look at you...Your skin is bleached by hellfire, and your eyes made blind by that witch's evil false promises. You were seduced by the dark side boy, and now you are lost to god."
Patrick grabbed the corrupted rosary that wrapped around the prist's neck and pulled it from him, sending beads of bone flying and rolling across the floor.
"You are the one who is doing the devil's work. Your ignorance and hate made you ignorant to the potential man has for good. And for this, you are nothing." Patrick aimed his rifle, prepared to destroy the priest's head with a point-blank shot.
However, Vather Niyazov had other plans. When Patrick least expected it, the priest wrappped a tentacle around his midsection and smashed him through the skylight of the church, sending shards of glass raining down upon the rest of the group.
Father Niyazov approached the rest of the crew, beleiving wholly that he had killed the young heretic.

"Yea and I shall cleanse the heretics in holy flame." He announced as his tentacles wound and unwound like irate cobras.
The windows of the cathedral shattered as a glowing prescence sent the preist reeling into a wall and rattling the cross above them. Patrick's skin glowed white, and the touch of it around the Priest's neck burned like hot iron. Father Niyazov pushed the young man off him, sending him stumbling backward.
"YOU SPAWN OF EVIL!" Father Niyazov shrieked. "YOU CHILD OF THE DEVIL! I SHALL WIPE YOU FROM THIS EARTH, AND DAMN YOU TO THE FIRES OF HELL!!" However, the priest would have no such opportunity.
The cross that dangled precariously above him fell, it's sharpened bottom running itself through his skull.
Father Niyazov said nothing, but as the light began to smear and blur, the sight of the young man and the witch began to altar. Wings of light seemed to form at their backs, and halos around their head.
"I will let him judge you..." Patrick's last words to him echoed within his mind as his hear silenced and his lungs let out their last gasp of air in the blood gurgled words.
"Forgive me."

[MWBailey]

With a howl like a psychotic Wolf in some horrific Russian folktale about giant werewolves and Evil witches who travel in grinding-bowls, Scraps bounded through the Winter Palace, ripping the Cold Ones and occultists he found into shreds; it was the same as it had been aboard the Boheme, only there were more, and wider, and taller corridors, and more Cold Ones.

Every so often they would corner an Occultist or a Cold One and make it or them tell where they or it thought that the Tsar would be. Always northwards, always away from the side on which the sun would be shining, if indeed it did shine. Once or twice, Dreyfuss glanced aside and saw through a slightly open door an entire ballroom or throne hall filled with Cold Ones, and then he would hurl a Mondragon Grenade through that opening and slam the door shut in the very faces of those peering out. The Massive detonatiuon that invariably followed would shake the building, and something, sounding far away and very, very infuriated, would shrill in an otherworldly screech.
--------------------------------------
Across the city, Patrick and company were examining the large construction that had been intended to frame and control the Portal; Patrick was trying to figure out how to destroy the device, but Emma was examining the controls and having thoughts of her own. Then, suddenly, a tremor shook the ground, and the sound of a massive detonation rocked the walls of the cathedral, dislodging any glass left in the windows. "What was that?!" Emma demanded. Patrick shook his head; Jen did the same. just then, Nikolai stumbled in, shouting "Teh winter Palace! Our friends have begun their attack! the Gate is no more, nor are several nearby government buildings!" and Angel flew out to investigate, Cain not far behind her.
----------------------------------------
"Where IS this 'Tsar,' " Dreyfuss raged. "do we have to level the palace before he shows himself?"

"No, Gentlemen. You do not, in fact, have to 'Level the Palace,' as you say."

A man stood at the far end of the thronehall that they had just searched. Rosie 'Hiiiiisssssss' ed, and Abe took a half-step back. Dreyfuss simply stood and watched as the man walked into the thronehall/ballroom. He wasdressed in a simple dark grey wool suit with wide, button-down lapels, a double-breasted waistcoat, white sirt, black patent leather shoes, and wearing a red sash bordered in creamy white, from which dangled a curved sword. He walked farther into the room, Dreyfuss examining this odd man closely.

"Odd," because like a dream figure, he seemed to be more substantial than the reality in which he moved. Strange, I'd almost say there's more of him there than I can see with or without the goggles, Dreyfuss thought. If he's not the tsar, he's still pretty powerful, or he appears so. Maybe a very powerful commodore... . I hope I don't let Elisha down; poor kid thinks I'm some kind of commodore exterminator or something. Well, lets see, shall we?

Dreyfuss said, "Identify yourself! Friend or foe!?" And the man laughed...

"Oh, definitely 'foe,' I think..."

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel did not like this at all, she could not feel the others.  It was like some kind of curtain had been drawn around them.  Something was trying to make sure help could not reach them. 

George and the tank trundled up to them as they ran towards the winter palace.  "Get ready I have a swarm of blackfles on my tail that I haven't been able to shake."   And that was all the warning they got before a cloud of angry creatures rained down on them.  Emma took Irene and Jen under the tank so they could be partially protected while they fired at the chittering mass of black bodies.  The second generation microwave gun was performing well and taking down swaths of bugs but the swarm was huge.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick shouldered his aetheric rifle, pulling the trigger to let forth a torrent of white hot energy, punching a huge hole into the numbers of the blackflies, sending the chittering machines plummeting into the ground. The white fire that now flowed through his veins began to kick in, funelling itself through his rifle and besetting upon the charging swarm. As the ivory flames licked the surfaces of the black machines, their places fell apart as if they were held together with naught but the very idea that they should.

Cain did his part as well, letting his song rattle the tiny worms that operated each blackfly. Each and every little pilot could swear they were flying directly into a tree with steel branches, but were in fact running into eachother.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel let her strenght flow in to Cain's disorienting song but stopped as soon as she saw large things moving on the ground. It looked like a troop of brutes and arbiters. "They are trying to sneak up on them.  I think we can fix that." She said with a smile.

Emma was knocked to the ground and nearly trampled as an arbiter rushed George pushing him back to get at those beneath him.  Emma ducked and rolled ending up beneath the beast.  It may have been strong but a blast of sizzling hot microwaves to ones undersides tended to smart regardless.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain grinned and charged headlong into the line of arbiters and brutes. He lept onto the broad, flat, exoskeletal back of an arbiter and driving his deus blade between the chithinous segments of the arbiter's armor into the side of the beasts' head. The arbiter screeched in pain and veered unwillingly to the left, plowing through a pair of brutes as its claws flailed wildly, inadvertedly decapitating a pair of brutes and slicing off the eye-stalks of an arbiter, causing it to weakly stumble before tipping over and wolling onto its back helplessly. Cain finished off his unwilling mount and lept onto the upturned beast, driving both blades into its soft underbelly and  grasping one of its many legs. After whirling the corpse in the air a few times before letting it fly into the swathe of blacflies.
However, more brutes and arbiters charged them, flailing their claws and mighty pillar-like arms as they hooted and screeched cries of combat.

[Stella Gaslight]

Emma let out a yell as the arbiter stepped on her while it thrashed in pain.  Perhaps staying under it hadn't been such a good idea.  After she got her breath back she charged at the monster, it would learn that she was not something to be trod on.  George rushed in grappling it's pincers with his own. While the monsters arms were occupied Emma fired at it getting in several good shots before she was blindsided by a brute and knocked several feet down the street. She was getting very good at bouncing back and was only dazed for a moment.  "You ruined my good skirt!" She shouted opening fire on the charging monster.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss took the rope from around his shoulders, and threw it back to Abe "keep track of that for me, Abe, will you? you might find it useful, in fact. Abegrinned a very nasty grin, nodded ,and began skirting off to Dreyfuss' right, even as Elisha did the same on the left, while he heard Ella Immediately at his back, cocking her pistols. 

Dreyfuss took the Boat gun down from his shoulder and transferred it to his left hand, as their opponent drew the long, curved saber of the cossack cavaliers, and began trying to circle to Dreyfuss' left, forcing Dreyfuss to keep most of his awareness tuned in upon his opponent. He drew the basket-hilted saber, and the man stepped back and held his own blade up in the traditional salute position; Dreyfuss did likewise, and they saluted, their blades descended, both accellerated, swung back up again, both moving so quickly they were a blur, and then Dreyfuss convulsed his fingers, the blade of his saber appeared to curl into the movement, and suddenly the newcomer's sword bounced, clangingly, upon the floor. Ella Laughed triumphantly.

YOU DARE! YOU DARE TO DISARM THE TSAR OF THE RUSSIAS?!

"So, you're the  Tsar? funny, I would have thought you would be a much better swordsman - even for a glorified walking Kraken..."

Teh Tsar's face contorted, and Dreyfuss fell back, allowing the man to pick up the cossack saber.
"Kraken?" The Tsar grated. "you will pay for that, Texian." He spoke the word as if it were the most foul obscenity that could be uttered by human lips; a thought that made Dreyfuss smile at the sheer irony.

And then the real battle began...

[MWBailey]

The Tsar lunged, and so did Dreyfuss, each of their blades deflecting the other until the hilts of their weapons slammed together, the quillions grating, grinding, and throwing sparks. Dreyfuss barely had time to grab, mentally, at the sparks and take them in before the Tsar shoved him away with a superhuman effort. The Tsar then slashed downward at his shoulder, only to be met with Dreyfuss' saber, which came up and nearly succeeded in slicing the Tsar's eybrow with the back edge, but was blocked with a tortuously twisting movement by the Tsar. "OHO!" shouted Dreyfuss, "good Parry!"

And then the Tsar charged back in and Dreyfuss charged as well, and for a while, the hall rang with the sound of myriad blows delivered and blows parried, ripostes, and sliding scrapes of near-disarms.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

The Tsar stopped, watching Dreyfuss carefully. He also kept an eye on Elisha and Ella, who skirted around him.

"You make a mistake in assuming I am like the other Commodores." said the Tsar, keeping his voice level. "I am pure and unique in my creation. I was not meant to be toyed with."

Elisha watched as the Tsar...changed. It was like he was becoming a Cold One...but much worse. Four legs supported a muscular torso with large claws. On his back swung two tentacles - each tipped with a long blade. The Tsar struck out with all the edges in his arsenal. Elisha moved in and blocked some that were heading towards Dreyfuss. This Tsar was fighting like a master swordsman...with about seven identical twins...