The Storm Bastion shot forward like a gale of dark clouds ripping through the sky at vicious speed. Yet the velocity left Northern and the two Knights untouched on the air vessel's deck.
The dark clouds filtered out the razor gales they carved through.
Knight Eskedar and Chryslar had entered the lounge area of the crew quarters, where black couches circled in different semi-circle sections with a black oak semi-circle table between them.
Both stood by the windows, eyes tracking the scenery below, when the entire airship bucked violently. Northern's knuckles whitened on the railings, his brow creasing.
"That's no ordinary shake... did something collide..."
Footsteps pounded across the deck. Oland burst through the doorway, chest heaving.
"My lord! It seems we are here already!"
Northern's head snapped toward him.
"Really?"
Oland nodded, panting.
"Yes! And something's pulling us downward."
Northern's eyes narrowed to slits.
