D'ahl stated gravely, "You have failed."
"I don't know how to pilot an airship!" D'hein threw his hands in the air. "Why would you think I could pilot an airship!"
"Because I asked specifically if you could and you said that, yes, you could." At this point she was actually pointing at him with her knife, though just far enough away that she wasn't stabbing him yet. "Also because of the part where you proceeded to turn the airship on, steer it out of the Garlean base and fly it across half a continent."
"Well, yes, I did," he said proudly.
"And now you can't fly it all of a sudden!"
"I think it's just mad that I took one of its things," he held up a sparkling, blue rod. He thought it would make a splendid cane, and perhaps even a focus for thaumaturgy. "So it's not letting me steer anymore."
D'ahl growled, "And where did you get it?"
"From the thing," D'hein point at a wall of such things, which had once glowed blue and thrummed peacefully, but was now entirely dark except frustrating flames and sparking. "It's pretty but I think angry. These Garlean magics are so finicky. I can't believe they actually conquered anything with such dubiously precarious concoctions."
D'ahl hit him on the forehead, hard, with the butt of the knife. "You are not a Garlean spy! You're an idiot! I'm not going with you on these trips anymore!"
"Aw," D'hein frowned, tears growing in his eyes. "But... D'ahl..."
"How do I open the windows?" She pushed him out of the way. The bridge of the Garlean airship was a frustratingly dark room made of metal and other artificial materials, lit up by strange magic pods in the ceiling and all kinds of lights and levers on what they had assumed (rightly) to be the piloting tool-table. They hadn't yet figured out how to get the dark metal window shutters to open, though, so D'hein had spent the flight opening the door to check outside.
Now, though, D'ahl was getting impatient. She hoped on the pilot's tool-table and banged on the window shutters. "Open up!" She instructed, and tried pushing on them, "Maybe they're just old!"
"I'll use thaumaturgy to open it!" D'hein proclaimed, holding up the blue rod he'd aquired, smiling broadly at the thought of testing its use as a spell-crafting focus. Surely Garleans should at least make much better magical foci.
"Just don't crash the airship," D'ahl said, hopping down to the floor and getting out of the way. "I didn't even want to go to this Praetorium place. If I don't make it home in one piece you're really going to get it."
"Don't worry," the Tia responded. He grinned down at the rod, turning it this way and that to admire its sturdiness and just plain shininess. He wasn't sure about making a focus out of something so very not wood, but it had seemed to be resonating with energy before, so hopefully it would be just fine. if not, what was the worst that could happen? Oh, but if it did, what was the best that could happen? Maybe it magnified spells! Or turned them into megitech spells somehow! Or maybe instead of casting one fireball he'd cast two fireballs!"
"D'hein!" D'ahl shoutted impatiently, her muscled arms crossed in her green eyes smoldering. "Windows! Open!"
"Sorry, sorry. Swiftcast!" He held the rod overheard, and then swing it in front of him, "Fire three!" And the front of the bridge was filled with explosive fire in an instant. Then the middle of the bridge and then the rest of the bridge, and D'hein felt the ticklish not-pain of being slammed against the wall and burned.
As the fire subsided, D'ahl was shouting in fury, "You moron! What kind of uneducated amateur thaumaturge would use a spell like that in a metal room!"
"Calm, D'ahl. If you can speak you're fine." D'hein rolled to his feet and shook out his hair, nothing that he was only singed, mostly. Then he looked down at his hand, where he held the rod, and noted that the rod had been melted into a hideous mess of metal around his hand. His digits were numb and unresponsive, his flesh red. "Oh dear," he muttered. "My rod didn't survive the spell. Garlean craftsmanship is rather disappointing."
"Look!" D'ahl rushed forward, hopping back up on the pilot table thing. Where once there had been many closed windows there was now a vast open hole, through which they could see the Praetorium and the lands around it. What they saw was a battlefield. "It's the battle the Garlean in Ala Mhigo mentioned! I think I see... I think that's all of the Grand Companies!"
"What!" D'hein joined D'ahl at the makeshift window. "And still my superiors in the Empire hide from me! What are they thinking with such reticence? Do they not support the efforts of Gaius Van Balseur, the Black Wolf?"
As he finished the question, there was a sudden eruption from the heart of the Praetorium. It was unthinkable in power, such that D'hein was honsetly sure at first he was perceiving incorrectly. The main structure of the place seemed to bloom outward like a flower, stamen of flames launching from the cracks into the sky. Then the petals broke into dust, great chunks of debris smashing to the ground as a fireball rose into the sky.
"What was that?" D'ahl asked, standing transfixed.
"I think," D'hein muttered, forcing himself to speak calmly. "I mean, perhaps I am wrong, or perceive incorrectly, but if you agree then we can infer that the Praetorium has just exploded."
"The entire Praetorium just exploded!" D'ahl said, and cheered, jumped happily. "We're winning! Eorzea wins!"
"D'ahl, stop that! Obviously the Praetorium did not just explode! That is ludicrous!" He grabbed the woman's tail to stop her celebration. "It's obviously just Garlean illusion magic or something. Lull people into a false sense of victory."
The shockwave from the explosion hit the airship moments later, carrying with it the smell of acrid fire and ignited steel, the heat of the detonation, and enough force to push the airship up and to the side. D'ahl and D'hein were knocked away from the window as the airship pitched far back, and then corrected itself far forward. Its nose fucked down, and this time it did not correct. If anything, it accelerated. Actually it did accelerate.
As the ship began to make magical sounds which were very repetitive, loud and annoying, D'hein shouted, "I believe the ship is now falling!"
"Falling!" D'ahl shouted, clawing back to her knees and staring wide-eyed at the black pit where the Praetorium once was. "We can't crash! I refuse to crash!" She looked at D'hein and shouted, "Are you killing me, D'hein Tia? Are you killing me!?"
"At this point I honestly don't know anymore!"
"I don't know how to pilot an airship!" D'hein threw his hands in the air. "Why would you think I could pilot an airship!"
"Because I asked specifically if you could and you said that, yes, you could." At this point she was actually pointing at him with her knife, though just far enough away that she wasn't stabbing him yet. "Also because of the part where you proceeded to turn the airship on, steer it out of the Garlean base and fly it across half a continent."
"Well, yes, I did," he said proudly.
"And now you can't fly it all of a sudden!"
"I think it's just mad that I took one of its things," he held up a sparkling, blue rod. He thought it would make a splendid cane, and perhaps even a focus for thaumaturgy. "So it's not letting me steer anymore."
D'ahl growled, "And where did you get it?"
"From the thing," D'hein point at a wall of such things, which had once glowed blue and thrummed peacefully, but was now entirely dark except frustrating flames and sparking. "It's pretty but I think angry. These Garlean magics are so finicky. I can't believe they actually conquered anything with such dubiously precarious concoctions."
D'ahl hit him on the forehead, hard, with the butt of the knife. "You are not a Garlean spy! You're an idiot! I'm not going with you on these trips anymore!"
"Aw," D'hein frowned, tears growing in his eyes. "But... D'ahl..."
"How do I open the windows?" She pushed him out of the way. The bridge of the Garlean airship was a frustratingly dark room made of metal and other artificial materials, lit up by strange magic pods in the ceiling and all kinds of lights and levers on what they had assumed (rightly) to be the piloting tool-table. They hadn't yet figured out how to get the dark metal window shutters to open, though, so D'hein had spent the flight opening the door to check outside.
Now, though, D'ahl was getting impatient. She hoped on the pilot's tool-table and banged on the window shutters. "Open up!" She instructed, and tried pushing on them, "Maybe they're just old!"
"I'll use thaumaturgy to open it!" D'hein proclaimed, holding up the blue rod he'd aquired, smiling broadly at the thought of testing its use as a spell-crafting focus. Surely Garleans should at least make much better magical foci.
"Just don't crash the airship," D'ahl said, hopping down to the floor and getting out of the way. "I didn't even want to go to this Praetorium place. If I don't make it home in one piece you're really going to get it."
"Don't worry," the Tia responded. He grinned down at the rod, turning it this way and that to admire its sturdiness and just plain shininess. He wasn't sure about making a focus out of something so very not wood, but it had seemed to be resonating with energy before, so hopefully it would be just fine. if not, what was the worst that could happen? Oh, but if it did, what was the best that could happen? Maybe it magnified spells! Or turned them into megitech spells somehow! Or maybe instead of casting one fireball he'd cast two fireballs!"
"D'hein!" D'ahl shoutted impatiently, her muscled arms crossed in her green eyes smoldering. "Windows! Open!"
"Sorry, sorry. Swiftcast!" He held the rod overheard, and then swing it in front of him, "Fire three!" And the front of the bridge was filled with explosive fire in an instant. Then the middle of the bridge and then the rest of the bridge, and D'hein felt the ticklish not-pain of being slammed against the wall and burned.
As the fire subsided, D'ahl was shouting in fury, "You moron! What kind of uneducated amateur thaumaturge would use a spell like that in a metal room!"
"Calm, D'ahl. If you can speak you're fine." D'hein rolled to his feet and shook out his hair, nothing that he was only singed, mostly. Then he looked down at his hand, where he held the rod, and noted that the rod had been melted into a hideous mess of metal around his hand. His digits were numb and unresponsive, his flesh red. "Oh dear," he muttered. "My rod didn't survive the spell. Garlean craftsmanship is rather disappointing."
"Look!" D'ahl rushed forward, hopping back up on the pilot table thing. Where once there had been many closed windows there was now a vast open hole, through which they could see the Praetorium and the lands around it. What they saw was a battlefield. "It's the battle the Garlean in Ala Mhigo mentioned! I think I see... I think that's all of the Grand Companies!"
"What!" D'hein joined D'ahl at the makeshift window. "And still my superiors in the Empire hide from me! What are they thinking with such reticence? Do they not support the efforts of Gaius Van Balseur, the Black Wolf?"
As he finished the question, there was a sudden eruption from the heart of the Praetorium. It was unthinkable in power, such that D'hein was honsetly sure at first he was perceiving incorrectly. The main structure of the place seemed to bloom outward like a flower, stamen of flames launching from the cracks into the sky. Then the petals broke into dust, great chunks of debris smashing to the ground as a fireball rose into the sky.
"What was that?" D'ahl asked, standing transfixed.
"I think," D'hein muttered, forcing himself to speak calmly. "I mean, perhaps I am wrong, or perceive incorrectly, but if you agree then we can infer that the Praetorium has just exploded."
"The entire Praetorium just exploded!" D'ahl said, and cheered, jumped happily. "We're winning! Eorzea wins!"
"D'ahl, stop that! Obviously the Praetorium did not just explode! That is ludicrous!" He grabbed the woman's tail to stop her celebration. "It's obviously just Garlean illusion magic or something. Lull people into a false sense of victory."
The shockwave from the explosion hit the airship moments later, carrying with it the smell of acrid fire and ignited steel, the heat of the detonation, and enough force to push the airship up and to the side. D'ahl and D'hein were knocked away from the window as the airship pitched far back, and then corrected itself far forward. Its nose fucked down, and this time it did not correct. If anything, it accelerated. Actually it did accelerate.
As the ship began to make magical sounds which were very repetitive, loud and annoying, D'hein shouted, "I believe the ship is now falling!"
"Falling!" D'ahl shouted, clawing back to her knees and staring wide-eyed at the black pit where the Praetorium once was. "We can't crash! I refuse to crash!" She looked at D'hein and shouted, "Are you killing me, D'hein Tia? Are you killing me!?"
"At this point I honestly don't know anymore!"
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