Mission Incomplete [Reiner, Eitan]

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan's nod sufficed to give Reiner permission to speak freely. He supposed erring on the side of whatever level of decorum made the man feel most at ease was best, and hoping a friendship that was even a shadow of what he had with Stefan and had had with Brenner would develop between them in time. Considering what was said, he nodded again. If Reiner's education was not that of his cousin's, his intellect wasn't subpar.

"The wine will go to the Major," he said with a smile. "But I'll be sure to mention it in front of witnesses lest he be tempted to hoard. As for speaking on my behalf, I hope you will just give them an honest account of what we have done and what we hope to do. We are not übermensch... no supermen here. There remain struggles, and we have made mistakes, so you needn't paint us out to be what we aren't. I do believe we are the best hope for unity and a future for Zaichaer, those in the sky and those on the ground. I hope we have convinced you, at least. But... otherwise, I would rather show than tell. Dr Stechpalme has medical supplies and will ply her skill. I will see to magical defenses to magical threats. We bring supplies and we will take refugees from Schiller to the lodge.

"I wonder if we might scour the wreckage for materiel to bring the Schiller to the lodge... or into the air with the Windworks."

It was certainly something to consider and bring up with Stefan. Lucrece had persuaded him to bring the Academy aloft with its priceless knowledge and, perhaps, room to house Zaichaeri citizens of an academic bent.

"Well, we shall descend soon enough, and then the work will continue. Dismissed until then, Dornkirk, unless you would prefer to take the air and the tactical sights with me."

[Reiner Dornkirk]

"Oh, don't worry about Major Trier, sir. I've never seen him drink a drop." Reiner offered with a chuckle. The man was, like many in his position, a control freak. But Major Trier was that particular sort of control freak who felt like anything intoxicating was a relinquishment of the control to which they clung with white-knuckled fervor.

To the entreaty, Reiner would nod.

"They know me too well, sir. If I were fibbing or exaggerating, they'd call me on it right quick." He shrugged a shoulder, while wearing a crooked smile. "But I take your point, all the same." The private knew that his enthusiasm could lead him into unintentional hyperbole. He'd bought into the line his cousin was selling- he was predisposed to based on the purveyor. They'd know that, too, and it would be smart to be mindful and downplay things a bit so he wouldn't seem like some doe-eyed dupe.

"I believe in the cause too, sir." He replied, firmly. "And I'm sure the Schiller and the men who guard it would do the Islands a lot of good if there was any way to get 'em up there." Reiner's hazel eyes took note of the cityscape before them. He wasn't used to seeing the city from this vantage, let alone seeing it in its present state. The damage, however, had left certain landmarks that were impossible to miss. He could see they were homing in on the Schiller.

"Won't be long now, sir." He hazarded a smile to the Captain Seeker, "Might as well stay up here with you, if you don't object." Reiner wanted friendship, too but, being at the hierarchal disadvantage, he wasn't sure how to navigate them toward it. It felt important to err on the side of the formal until explicit permission was granted to do otherwise. He'd seen powerful men turn on a dime and embarrass their subordinates for being overfamiliar. He'd experienced that humiliation too many times not to be cautious about inviting it. Still, if the Captain Seeker wouldn't shirk his company, he wouldn't dash off at the first opportunity.

And it wouldn't be long before they were descending toward the hotel-cum-barracks-cum-refugee camp. When they were close enough to see, Reiner noticed men on the rooftop, gazing up in suspicion at the approaching ship. Weapons at the ready in case it was another Kalzasern Horse.

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan nodded. Reiner provided good intel, the sort that he could use as an officer and the sort he could manipulate as a Seeker. And he seemed content to remain in Eitan's presence, which was nice. Despite the urge to immediately befriend him, he knew such things took time, and he continually reminded himself that this was not Brenner Dornkirk. But Reiner Dornkirk could become friend and family both.

As they approached, his eyes followed movements on the ground. He reached out through his Rune looking for other wards, new or intact, that might lead them to more warders who could make his job easier, though the Noble Gambit was well nigh invincible with him aboard. How low the High City had fallen, but he reminded himself that the cream had risen to the top and into the air. The High City was higher now than it had ever been, though the unwilling sacrifice had been great.

He glanced sideways at Reiner as he felt the deck of the airship shift beneath his feet as it began its descent. His mind was running through the logitical calculations as to whether the Schiller ought to be taken up eventually or merely fortified as a permanent outpost in the ruins, as well as the calculations of how best to bring Reiner into the fold.

"Down we go," he said, loud enough to be heard in the little sheltered pocket he had created from the buffeting winds. He didn't bother checking on Stechpalme and the others. The journey had been short enough and they wouldn't have unpacked anything. Between the Dornkirks and the Angevins, they had things running like clockwork now. The only challenge was keeping the clockwork running and adding more survivors as cogs in the great machine.

[Rune]

The hotel-cum-barracks had seen better days, the walls were stained with soot and the shutters were dangling where they still held on at all. It was currently surrounded by a great deal of makeshift barriers, from piled sandbags to broken carts and carriages, forming a semi-secure area where all four sides that faced the streets could be defended. Men in uniforms that had also seen better days could be seen working, standing guard, or simply milling about with cigarettes. A few gave a wave when the smaller aircraft came down carrying the visiting brass, or so they supposed.

The landing party was met by a man who had once been Reiner's commanding officer. He saluted Eitan and then looked the youngest militant Dornkirk over for a moment as though unsure how to react to him, deciding in the end to let the salute stand. Releasing it he explained that he had received the communication concerning Eitan's arrival and its intended purpose before expressing gruff gratitude. Once this was done he asked if there was anything that the Captain-Seeker needed to accomplish his goal, or anything that the men of the Schiller should avoid doing while Angevin worked.

It was obvious that, while the gratitude was genuine, the discomfort with magic remained firmly with this commander, as well as most of his men, who were either peering openly at the greeting or pretending not to be doing so. Once all accommodations had been met the man explained that it would be in his office and made his exit with just enough dignity that he could not have been said to be escaping. He had requested a full briefing after the fact, as he was unsure how, or even if, they would be able to get into or out of the protective Negation bubble once it was in place.

Just as he disappeared into the hotel a shot rang out. Just one, from a rifle about twenty yards from where the little aircraft had landed. A few men looked up but none seemed surprised. Reiner would recognize it as the normal execution of any of the slow moving undead creatures that wandered too close. The noise did not seem to draw them, so their dispatch was routine.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

PFC Dornkirk saluted Major Trier as he approached to greet the more notable members of their party, unable to completely suppress the grin that wanted to curl his lips. It was a relief to see his commanding officer and the other familiar faces surrounding them. He hadn't been gone terribly long, but a lot could change quickly in this part of the dread zone. He was particularly pleased to see Private Brinkler, who was one of the nicest soldiers he'd ever met, albeit a brand of nice that translated into his not being the best at his job. There was a timidity to him that Reiner always felt wanted protecting. He was glad that, in his absence, he was still safe.

Reiner lowered his salute and stood at ease when he was bade to do so, turning his full attention to the exchange between the new and the old parts of his life. Like most of those present, he didn't fully understand the Captain-Seeker's fell power. It felt almost sacrilegious to even try to, but he knew that was impractical so he suppressed the urge to stuff his fingers in his ears and hum a hymn to the state when he spoke on the matter.

Negation seemed a particularly enigmatic arcane discipline to his mind. Markedly unscientific in that it seemed to rely not on natural laws of physics, but upon the personal purview of the caster. It was, as far as he could tell, up to the mage to define the terms of the materials or concepts he was manipulating. Against a more conscious foe than Mistspawn it might have felt like cheating, but their current war felt more like fighting off a disease than a tactical rival.

Reiner twitched at the sound of the gunshot, his face shifting sharply per his reflexes to face the direction from which the sound had pierced the air. After a moment of silence passed, he looked to Angevin.

"Permission to greet my squad mates, Sir!"

[Eitan Angevin]

The others stayed close to the landing ship, helping unload the medical supplies for Stechpalme's work. Later, it would ferry more mundane supplies to the former hotel. Angevin and Dornkirk treated with Major Trier, and as he seemed uncomfortable with half of Angevin's title, he was gracious enough to let him get back to his paperwork.

Like any soldier, he froze still as any statue at the report of the rifle. As soon as Dornkirk made his request, he nodded with a terse, but not unkind, "Permission granted, Private."

Then, he repaired to the doctor, the warders, and the witches.

"It would seem we have the run of the place," he informed them. A young healer was assisting Stechpalme. "Get your work done. Ask questions if necessary. These men are living in constant danger, so be aware. Keep within line of sight of someone else at all times. I don't anticipate trouble, but I always anticipate trouble. Nothing flashy with the magic. Their triage is there," he said, indicating for Stechpalme, who nodded. "If you can identify a better location for a makeshift infirmary, we can make recommendations later when I report to Major Trier. Stores are in that direction. Anywhere you think could grow crops or herbs once we set things in motion, do it. Try to identify anyone curious—they might become stewards in our absence. Find me some possible anchor points while I check on that weapon discharge. I'll be back to set the groundwork for the wards.

"Dismissed."

The well-oiled machine went to work, and as Angevin followed Dornkirk's trail, his people split up and the landing ship rose to load up once more. Once Stechpalme identified those who needed medical evacuation, that would occur as well.

[Rune]

Reiner's once companions greeted him with the expected combination of genuine appreciation and teasing bravado. Several seemed particularly glad to see him, Private Brinkler included, while others seemed at least genuinely glad of a break in the routine of their days. They asked him questions, serious and otherwise, about his time on the Islands which were, by some miracle of science (they hoped) seen hovering near the city on cloudless days.

While the chit chat passed between the men who were not currently keeping an eye out on one of the four ways incursions might come from the soldiers and scholars of Eitan's team spread out and began the work they'd come to do. It was in this environment of bustle and (mostly) good-natured ribbing that the Captain-Seeker would begin his own work.

A little time passed, and the group around Private Dornkirk had settled down enough to actually listen to the stories he was willing to spin about his illustrious relations and the wonders they had spun into existence. They were nodding along, expressing disbelief, and chiming in with additional questions in a was that almost any member, finding themselves returning from having been away, would have found gratifying. Private Brinkler was looking at Reiner with such obvious and undivided admiration that one of the other soldiers jostled him just to see him startle.

Everyone in the circle of listeners had a good laugh about it, but before they had finished another shot rang out from one of the gunmen on another side of the hotel. The normality of a shot every half hour or hour was such that most of the finished laughing, and laughed harder because Brinkler had startled again at as the shot echoed around them. Two minutes later, there was another shot, from yet another side of the Schiller. This still was not particularly unusual and it wasn't until the man closest to the group fired, followed only a second later by a fourth shot from elsewhere that the men stopped listening to Reiner and began to look around themselves, retrieving arms and checking to ensure they were loaded and ready. It was orderly and without panic, though some looked nervous. Attacks of larger groups happened sometimes, without warning, it would be handled. A rifle was pushed into Reiner's hands with a nod that said, since he was there, he could do his part.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

Reiner chortled and tousled Private Brinkler's fine, blonde, neatly-trimmed hair to encourage him to take the taunts in stride. The self-styled Dornkirk was certainly no stranger to being the butt of the joke, and it always made his life easier when he figured out how to laugh at himself. The best thing he ever did to take the steam out of their teasing was to beat them to the joke. When he started deploying self-deprecating humor, it took the wind out of the japes delivered by others with worse intentions.

It was an easy thing for Reiner to promote the ideals of his cousin and the Islands, because he was wholly bought in himself. He wasn't deceiving anyone with false or hyperbolized propaganda, he was just speaking from the heart and relating anecdotes from his own life that supported the agenda. He was barely even conscious of doing it. Thus his plan, if one could even call something so effortless a 'plan', proceeded up until the point when the increasing frequency of gunfire set him and his audience into a different frame of mind. A frame of mind that was, unfortunately, all too familiar to each of them.

He was looking around for a weapon when one was handed to him, straight away.

"Thanks, brother." He replied with a stern nod, as he checked the chamber, and taking a quick look around noticed the Captain-Seeker was on the approach.

"Sir!" He jogged over to rendezvous with the ZADC officer, "Sounds like things are heating up out there. I'm gonna help the boys hold the line, unless you've got other orders for me." He glanced over in the direction all the other men were heading. He'd have just rushed out there without a second thought if he hadn't seen Angevin drawing up.

[Eitan Angevin]

Whatever Angevin had planned to say to Dornkirk or his men was set aside as gunfire began its martial music.

"Hold the line," he ordered, in agreement. "As will I. Expect covering fire from the airship."

With that, he waved Dornkirk forward to do what he had been doing until they had called him up into the firmament. With that, he hastened back to where his warders were setting things in motion. His voice cracked orders like a whip, though he drove himself harder than all the others. They sank an anchor into a decorative metal grill set into a flagstone in the courtyard—strong material unlikely to be broken without intention.

Angevin had intended his wards to be set without any fanfare, but having to do it at speed made it less efficient, which lead to some power seepage. This showed like the warping of the air in a heatwave, rising up from the perimeter into a dome covering the entirety of the former Hotel Schiller. It faded from view almost as soon as its structure was complete unless one looked through aura glass or was a warder oneself.

He tasked it immediately against the Dread Mists and all things Mistborn. They wove their interdictions at speed, but he was careful to set his intentions with the full force of his will, augmented by those aiding him. That done, they began to layer on the protections, going down a predetermined list based on those threads Dornkirk had deemed most pressing to the refugee station. While he was so focused, he remained unaware of the details of the battle, but could only depend upon the brave men of Zaichaer to do their part while he did the dirty work of runic magic to support and protect them.

The most junior of his assistants was perspiring heavily, and so he ordered him to take a break. Better that than he sew imperfections into the defenses.

[Rune]

The ward surrounding the hotel went up just as the first of the now swarming undead reached the barriers set up around the once-hotel. These men had seen a lot, but the volume of mist spawn pulling themselves out of doorways, or appearing down streets was unprecedented in their experience. Some stole glances at what the government sanctioned magic wielders were up to, but none had the sort of education that would have allowed the brief sight to offer any enlightenment. A stir went through them as the bubble first appeared and then vanished, but they continued to fire until it became obvious by the press of forms outlining the ward that the things were unable to penetrate past it. There were some sounds of joy, but an equal number who muttered about dark arts better left alone. It wasn't that they weren't grateful, but who knew what such workings could cost in the long run?

Private Brinkler, who had a knack for noticing details others missed, was one of those expressing happiness until he paused and peered uncertainly at the creatures now impotently surrounding them. His elbow poked out to nudge Private Dornkirk,

"Reiner, do they look... That is, is it strange how they are...touching it?"

'It' was clearly intended to mean the ward, and, anyone who was paying attention was now beginning to frown and look confused, or disgusted as the badly rotting bodies of what had once mostly been citizens of the city seemed to be pressing themselves against the wards. It looked not as though they were fighting to get through them, but rather that they wanted to be touching them. The odd, almost silent writhing wiggle of all of them trying to seemingly get close to the aether protection was broken by the sound of a man retching somewhere down the line. A moment later Private Brinkler swore, then again as he pointed to one specific zombie.

It's chest was peeling open and something was pulling it's way out. It was an amorphous sort of creature, with wriggling limbs, too many to be anything but an insect, but it also lacked anything like specific enough a form to be one. To Eitan's eyes, were he looking it would have seemed remarkably similar to the tiny creatures Stefan had shown to him after they had returned from the expedition.

Once the new horror had pulled itself free from it's host the zombie collapsed into a pile or skin, bones and goo, while the newly birthed thing skittered straight up the side of the ward somehow giving of the impression of being exceptionally pleased to be doing so. Sounds of disgust and horror from various men throughout the complex told the tale that this was not an isolated incident and, within moments, a hundred or more of the hand-sized scitterers were milling about over the invisible ward above and around the Schiller.

It was around this time that one of the warders working with Eitan looked up at his leader with his own, different sort of alarm.

"Seeker, my ward is weakening, something is..." He hesitated as he failed to find any way to describe what he was feeling through his rune. But Eitan would feel it too, the aether was being consumed. Not quickly, but more than enough to be dangerous for the one holding the ward if they kept hold of it.