A cool, salty Atlantic breeze sweeps across the flight deck of the USS Abraham Lincoln. Kinewyn walks to the edge and watches high waves roll into the aircraft carriers side below him. "Please step back from the edge, Kinewyn." The navy officer steps forward, tensed and ready to lunge after Kinewyn if he choses to jump. "Why do you use my first name? I am a prisoner, not a friend or associate? I have noticed that people of Earth give little regard to names. Many people on your world are not even offended when others shorten their name or ignore appropriate honorifics." The naval officer relaxes slightly when Kinewyn returns toward her, back from a 50 foot drop to icy water below. Her Asian features are muted by her pudginess.
Kinewyn wonders why this soldier lacks the strong, lean physique the rest of the aircraft carriers crew has. "Kinewyn, I use your first name because I wish to be your friend. Will you use my first name, Kimiko?" Kinewyn frowns. "Lt. Commander Kodai of the US Navy, it is foolish for you to wish to be my friend. Four of the soldiers on this ship are recovering from wounds I dealt them this morning. My escape attempted only failed because I wished to gain my freedom without taking the life of your soldiers. Tomorrow’s escape attempt will be unreserved and successful. It is unfortunate that some of your soldiers will have to die. I do regret that." "Kinewyn, I assure you that your presence on this aircraft carrier is solely for your own safety. The only reason you are being kept in a cell is because you continue to attempt to leave this aircraft carrier. If you will simply answer a few questions and put on a civil demeanor than this adversarial stance can be dropped on both sides."
Kinewyn turns away from Kimiko again. A seagull dips past him and under the sloping side of the ship. "If I answer one question truthfully, will you bring Bryong to the deck to speak with me?" Kimiko pauses and Kinewyn notices a bauble that sits over her ear. "If you answer one question truthful then as soon as we are done speaking Bryong will be brought to speak with you in the conference room on the deck where you met with Admiral Reynolds earlier today." Kinewyn breathes in the fresh sea air, "Ask your question, officer." The wind picks up as Kimiko takes a smart phone from her belt pouch. She flips the clam shell device open, keys a button. Kinewyn tries to move in toward her to watch the small screen on the device but he must first circle her to ensure that his blowing cloak does not disturb her. Kinewyn catches the scent of lilac and jasmine, but only a trace.
The screen shows Max Esso. He is wearing a brightly colored leather jacket bearing a large logo across his chest. "Zip Pappa Web Hosting" can clearly be read even on the small screen. An attractive woman holds a microphone to his mouth. "I am standing here with Max Esso, one of the five rolegamers who traveled to Thrycion earlier in the week. GNN is the first to bring you a detailed account of what actually happened on the distant planet. Max, tell us what happened to you on Thrycion."
Max waits silently until the woman moves the microphone closer. "Robyn, I could talk to you for the rest of the evening and not even cover what occurred in the first hour on Thrycion. The experience was incredibly rich. Fortunately, the Houman & Wiffle publishing house has purchased the book rights to the full story of what happened on Thrycion. SO your viewers will be able to read the full story this fall. I am in talks with Barner and Kit media right now for the movie rights, so I am confident that this story will be available to the world in a variety of formats. But I can tell you that the event that shocked me most on Thrycion was the death of my good friend Cynthia Mullen. The group that followed Stephen Cairnhist through the North Carolina Portal was myself, Derek Burgast and Cynthia Mullen. After we scaled Mount Gibbes and went through the portal we traveled for about ten miles on Thrycion to an area near the Hearan Forest, which located in the clan lands ruled by the half-orc Brugon Slace. There we met Kinewyn’s band, a group Thrycion mercenaries. Kinewyn is an elf, an experienced thief. His band consisted of himself, Azor, a Golon, Coveark, a human ranger and Bryong, a female sorcerer. If any of your viewers did not understand either the race or the profession I just named they should purchase a copy of the Blade & Bolt Players Guide Book or the B&B Gamemaster’s Guide."
Robin holds up a hand to Max. "Actually viewers please tune in tonight at 10 PM for Joe Corsair's in depth story on why marketing firms and conglomerate corporations are currently snapping up all of the B&B Players Guides and Creature Collections on online auction sites at prices in the thousands of dollars per copy. Please Max, continue." Max takes a quick look at his watch. "Thank you, Robin. Despite my protests, Stephen decided our gaming group should travel along with Kinewyn’s band." Robin again raises a hand, "To clarify for our viewers, Coveark is the man who was killed on the Winifred Proach show and Kinewyn and Bryong were taken into custody." Max nods, "That is correct. Now if I may continue." A frown forms on Max's face as Robin steps away slightly, but also extends the microphone. "So we travel with Kinewyn’s mercenary band to a small village and are planning to enjoy dinner with the villagers when suddenly the village is attacked by Minotaurs. Minotaurs with axes and great swords just descend on the village. They cut down villagers left and right. I tell you, Robin, as a veteran Blade & Bolt player I had seen these types of situations at the game table many times. But seeing the real world, Thrycion, that Blade & Bolt was an encyclopedia of just really had an impact on me. Well, the battle is raging and Kinewyn tells us to stay out of the way which I did. Derek, Stephen and Cynthia just stand there in the middle of all of it and to on ones surprise a minotaur sweeps through and disembowels Cynthia. Kinewyn’s band dispatch the minotaurs and we gather round -"
Robin opens her mouth to interject, thinks better of it as Max raises an eye brow at even the suggestion of another interruption. "So we are all standing over Cynthia corpse and Kinewyn says that Bryong can resurrect Cynthia. Stephen immediately becomes offended because he is one of those died-in-the-wool fundamentalist conservative evangelical Christians. He says that it would be "an abomination unto God to resurrect Cynthia". Derek and myself try to convince him that what he is saying is foolishness, but he was adamant. Kinewyn sees all this dissension in our group and says that Bryong will not resurrect Cynthia because our group is not in agreement on what is a critical decision. So, Robin, while I am here today to share my experience on what happened on Thrycion, Cynthia Mullen is buried in a swamp on Thrycion and that sad reality lays squarely on the shoulders of Stephen and his dogmatic religious superstitions." Robin waits to make sure she does not step on Max's words before turning to the camera. "An amazing story is unfolding as the first contact gaming group -"
Kimiko clicks the button on the phone. "One question, Kinewyn. You answer truthfully; thoroughly, and I will take you to speak to Bryong immediately. Agreed?" Kinewyn pauses. He can hear a slight whispering from the bauble close to Kimiko's ear. "Agreed," Kinewyn responds. Kimiko asks, "What do you know about resurrection magic?" Kinewyn loosens the leather straps around his wrist as he answers. "Resurrection is an ancient spell, its origins debated by arcanists and diviners. It is cast primarily by veteran clerics of many different gods. Its components cost in the tens of thousands of gold pieces. The spell is capable of restoring to life any creature killed by mortal hands. However, even when the spell is cast by a skilled cleric, always the resurrected creature is slightly diminished. There is no loss of mental capacity or memory. It is just that the resurrected creature will not be able to use their all of their skills and abilities to the full range they enjoyed in their first life."A sense of relief plays across Kimiko's face. "Thank you, Kinewyn. Thank you for giving an answer of significance."
Kimiko draws here cell phone, hits call button. "Escort Bryong to the Johnson conference room. I will bring Kinewyn to speak with her now, thank you." Kinewyn nods. "See, Kinewyn. We are building bridges to one another with cooperation." Kinewyn shakes his head, "Please do not forget what I told you. I will leave this ship tomorrow. The only question will be if my exit will be through the cost of several of your men’s lives.” Kimiko’s expression hardens. "This way." Kimiko leads Kinewyn back across the deck of the
ship. Activity has picked up and Kinewyn stops to watch as two mammoth machines are rolled out outward the bright yellow lines he is walking perpendicular to. Kimiko turns, "Those are F15 Strike Eagles, Kinewyn. They are flying weapons platform that allow the US government to attack military targets up to thousands of miles away within hours with the force of 200 infantry."
Kinewyn watches an F15s taxi to a launch position. "Indeed." Kimiko extends her hand, "We need to proceed." Kinewyn nods and follows. Ground crews scurry past Kinewyn as he approaches the main tower near the aft of the USS Abraham Lincoln. Kinewyn glances over to a crew member who is watching him. Quickly, as Kinewyn and Kimiko pass, the crew member raises two right hand fingers straight against his leveled left hand. He turns his hand clock-wise as a key turns in a lock. Kinewyn is startled and stops. The crewman immediately drops his hands and moves toward the F15 Strike Eagle. Kinewyn tries to focus and continue with Kimiko but he is startled. How? How does an inhabitant of earth know a thieves' guild hand sign for "freedom" from a world he could never have set foot on? Kinewyn curses himself under his breath as Kimiko comes back for him, again insisting they continue back into the air craft carriers’ interior to speak with Bryong. She sweeps her gaze across the deck for what Kinewyn was looking at. He hurries forward, forcing her to halt her quick search and jog after him. "I am excited to see Bryong. I am surprised that you are fulfilling your end of our agreement so quickly." A broad smile spreads across Kimiko’s face, "You will continue to find, Kinewyn, that cooperating with the US military awards fast and substantial rewards."Kinewyn nods as he ducks to enter the circular door into the interior hall way. The piercing whine of jet engines echoes into the hall as they head to the conference room where Bryong waits to speak with Kinewyn. The grey hall of the aircraft carrier gives way to an open area in the ships interior. The sterile hard plastic beneath their feet is replaced with plush dark carpet that leads to a wide accommodating conference room. The room is sealed. Two guards are visible inside behind a wall wide window. Large screens display complex charts and metrics on the far wall. Two additional guards stand just outside the conference room. Bryong sits with he hands cuffed in front of her. She smiles and stands when she sees Kinewyn.
Immediately the two guards standing behind Bryong run toward the conference room door. The first guard, a stocky Native American who seems crammed into his navy whites, kicks the door shattering it off its hinges and startling both of the guards on the outside of the conference room. The AmerIndian and the blond female guard leave Bryong behind as they both explode out of the conference room and physically attack the exterior guards. Relying on speed and surprise the Native American and the blond female disarm both guards. Kinewyn grins and effortlessly strikes at Kimiko's neck. She falls unconscious at his feet. Bryong backs to the rear wall of the conference room. "Fear not, freecaster. We are being freed by these people." Kinewyn motions Bryong to come out to them as the AmerIndian and the blond female pull their sidearms. "How did your compatriot know the Silk Blade sign for freedom?" The AmerIndian flashes perfect teeth, "Page 146 of the Blade & Bolt Gamemaster Guide. Let's go. We need to be on the flight deck in less than 40 seconds."
Bryong rushes to them. The AmerIndian, Kinewyn and Bryong bolt across the flight deck to two F15 Strike Eagle fighter jets. Personnel from all over the flight deck converge on them. Bryong raises a hand and shouts. “To me!” Kinewyn steps close to her and their two helpers turn and stop their forward movement to do as Kinewyn does. Bryong places a hand an embroidered rune on her vest and stamps her foot down. Every soldier on the deck is knocked prone as force radiates out from Bryong. The AmerIndian smiles and is on the move again toward the fighter jets and the other three follow his lead. Side arms are drawn by soldiers on the above decks and Kinewyn is relieved as he hears distant shouts of “Don’t Shoot” from officers. The blond shouts, “Kinewyn, you are with me.” She leaps up the ladder to her cockpit and Kinewyn is in the seat behind her faster than she can turn to help him up. The fighter jets are flight-ready and the Blond is the first to close her cockpit. “Kinewyn, put on the helm that is back there with you.” Kinewyn does as he is told. “Now harness yourself in.”
The Blond raises a hand with two fingers extends as she looks out to the AmerIndian. He extends two fingers as well and the Blond fires up the jets on her fighter. She thumbs a signal to her aid on the deck and there is a sound of two sharp twangs. Kinewyn can feel the vibration through the fighter just before the F15 Strike Eagle is hurled forward. The F15 Strike Eagle darts out passed the edge of the airline carrier and arcs up sharply in an instant. Kinewyn screams as he is lifted out of his seat and pressed against the top of the cockpit. The loose harnesses he had been trying to put on now lash his back. The Blond yells, “You’ve got to get the harnesses on. Pull yourself- ” Kinewyn kicks the Blond in the head and hears her curse as the fighter jet rolls and she fights with the stick to regain control. Kinewyn turns himself around so that he is facing the seat and grabs a swinging harness. He yanks himself down into the seat and presses a hand against his forehead, bracing against the pain caused by slamming into the canopy. He hears murmurs from the pilot in front of him and he focuses again on getting harnessed in and getting the helm on his head. A machine, huge, bigger than a cog boat streaks out past the blond. Kinewyn only views it for a second before it is ahead of their fighter jet. The old elf’s alarm rises, even as he forces himself to don the helm. “Thank God. Kinewyn, you’re harnessed in and you can hear me?” Kinewyn collects himself before speaking. “I am.” The AmerIndian’s voice cuts across the blond pilot’s. “That’s not good. That’s not good, Loofa. I see four F-35A Lightning II’s. Two ahead two behind. No way we can out run them.” The blond banks her fighter left. “Shut up, Boken. We got introductions to take care of. Our pursuers are not a problem. Bryong and Kinewyn, on behalf of the USS Abraham Lincoln’s Red Five Blade & Bolt table-top roleplaying group, welcome to Earth. I am Erica Aumbear, flight tag Loofa when I am piloting this bird, and my fellow rescuer is Quenton Mulpas, flight tag Boken. He is the primary Dungeon Master for the Red Five Blade & Bolt table-top roleplaying group.”
Kinewyn grimaces as the fighter banks and climbs. "Loofa, on new band? Those fighters are close." "On new band, Boken. Level out and go back on route. Those pursuing fighters are not going to fire on us. Commander-In-Chief won't allow the loss of this significant a political asset. Sorry, Kinewyn and Bryong just some shop talk. You're going hear some static on your head sets as we change channels to avoid our conversation being overheard by our pursuers." Bryong touches the matte finishes of her helmet, "Kinewyn, I think this world has machines that are equivalent to scrying." Boken arches his fighter out in front of Loofa's, which changes direction to a sharp angled descent. Loofa listens to the fast breathing coming from Kinewyn’s microphone, "Kinewyn and Bryong, we are 175 miles off the coast of Pennsylvania. I need both of you to take a minute and pull the buckles of your chairs as tight as possible. There is a large tract of land - a national forest where we are going to eject you over. The canopy above you will explosively -"Kinewyn’s breathing grows rapid over his open microphone. Loofa stops and the powerful thrum of the F15's engine fill the silence. Bryong’s voice fills all their ears, "Kinewyn, these flight tools are simply machines. They are no different than the car we rode in with Max or the cell phone Stephen used to talk to his friends hundreds of miles away." The pounding thrum returns and then Kinewyn's speaks, "Erica Aumbear, please continue." "Thank you, Kinewyn. I need the both of you to prepare to be ejected from these aircrafts. First the canopy above you and then the chairs you are seated on will be explosively thrown upwards and you will be cleared from the afterburners of these fighter jets." Bryong responds immediately, "I need to be able to see Kinewyn to cast Leaf's Descent on him." Kinewyn feels the tight constriction across his chest as Loofa yanks the F15 Strike Eagle vertical and then angles out across her pursuers’ path. "You will have to sight each other and then direct yourselves together in freefall.
”
Boken spirals his aircraft behind Loofa and punches the velocity, shooting passed her, "Loofa, nix the eject. We can land in Pennsylvania and travel with Kinewyn and Bryong. They can travel safer with us." Kinewyn interrupts the AmerIndian, "We have been pursued and traveled many leagues in foreign lands before. Please allow us to make our escape. We thank you for your aid." Loofa matches Boken's speed, "We eject on three, Boken." Alarm laces Bryong's voice, "Kinewyn, when we are out there you to have to find me and get close. I have to start casting as soon as we are out of these machines." Loofa readies her hand over the eject switch. "Three, two, one." The canopies blast away from the F15 Strike Eagles and Bryong gasps in cold, thin rushing air. The freecaster's hair is propelled directly upward like an arrow for 150 yards before the momentum of the ejection decreases and the chair begins to tumble end over end.
Bryong steels herself, pulls the steel latch at her chest and kicks the chair away. She raises her knees and crosses her arms in case the chair strikes her. She exhales as the chair hurtles laterally away until its forward momentum is arrested by a wing of one of the pursuing jets. The F-35A Lightning II explodes into shards and Bryong screams as fire and shrapnel fill the twirling sky. A light kiss of metal on her cheek and a jagged punch of plastic on her upper arm as the pursuer’s debris is spun out across the sky. Bryong sees only chaos. Fire, spin, up, spin, traces of her blood, spin, debris, spin, Kinewyn arrowing toward her, spin, the second pursuing jet blasting forward, spin, open sky. Spin, spin. Spin, spin. Bryong tries to collect herself, failing until she is thumped hard on the back. She startles and Kinewyn’s arms are around her waist. She smiles, even as the faint traces of a loose jet engine's whine pass her ears. She turns to see Kinewyn’s reassuring grin. Kinewyn meets her gaze. There is no reassurance, no fear. "Start casting! Start casting! Do not write the last light rune until I say to." The spin of the green earth below slows.
Bryong casts her arms out and begins scrawling runes of light in the whistling air. Her glowing script turns in sync with her and Kinewyn. She finishes the last of the runes and Kinewyn shouts. “No, no, wai-" Spiking into the rotating vision of blue, white, green and brown are discernible trunks and branches. "Now," Kinewyn shouts. "Now." Bryong slashes the last light rune into the air before her and Kinewyn's speed and momentum are subsumed into the vertical stream of runes. Her arms and legs splay out and Kinewyn lets her go to gently fall the remaining fifty feet to the treetops of Reading, Pennsylvania.
CHAPTER 17