Wildfire Riders

Sitting in his chair, Bricu lifted Naiara over his head. "There's me wee girl!"

"Teaching her to fly so soon love?" Threnn said. She sat in her chair, across from her husband and baby girl.

Naiara, for her part, gurgled her approval.

"Aye missus, I am. One day, she'll get t'hear 'bout her da's brilliant flyin' through the Netherstorm."

"And when is her mother going to hear the story?"

Bricu sat Naiara on his lap, "Right now love, right now."

--

"I brought all o'me fast fliers. Obaden an' Penn were already there. Strewth, they were gone fer a few months, plannin' on how ta help plot the damn scheme out. I put on me ol'skyguard colors--"

"Including the cape?" Threnn asked. She smirked as she asked the question.

Bricu frowned. "Aye, includin' the soddin' cape. I landed with me mounts in tow. Odrud had all the contests showin' up 'round the same time. All sorts o'folk, with all kinds o'colors an' standards were there."

"How many?"

"Three dozen or so? I didn't worry 'bout much more than Odrud an' Tiforis. Odrud had the the races set up so folk woudn't race against each other at first. T'keep down on number o'dead racers."

"Dead racers?" Threnn asked. She kept herself composed at the thought, but Bricu seemed to read her thoughts anyway.

"Och, Love, it wasn't safe 'nough fer Naiara t'fly 'round, but I had it all covered. The cape, a few prayers an' Obaden ready t'fly 'round an'save me arse as soon as it looked like I was in trouble."

"So what was the trouble?"

"Me clever villian." Bricu said. He handed off Naiara--as if she were flying--to a not-quite-smiling Threnn.

"The trouble, love, was someone cut me saddle before me first qualifyin' run."

"How did they get passed the security?"

"Same way I did. I spent enough gold t'get past an' fer the tossers t'keep quiet. Goblins, love, all got there weakness fer profit. I found out the bastard who did it...but that's a story fer a different time."

"How did you fly then?"

"Bareback love. I saw the cut strap. They wanted it ta break 'while I was flyin'. Didnt' quite happen that way. I checked the saddle on me Ray, an' when i saw it was broken, I just kicked it off. Took ten seconds off me time it did. But I flew Argent through the storm. Nether ray, love, he was built fer it."

"Bareback?"

"Aye, it wasn't so bad. Rays got gaps in their scales that yeh can hold on ta. I wrapped me legs 'round as tight as I could, an held on as tight as I could. WAsn't that rought really. Somethin' we learned t'do when a ray we wrangled slipped up an' out."

"Bloody hell Bricu."

"Love, this wasn't that terrible. Strewth, it was worse when we did bombin' runs--Sides this was just the beginnin'. It got a wee bit worse than that..."

Tiforis sent the flyer into a roll, the sudden shift in momentum enough to send the warp stalker flying. He wasn't exactly where it had warped from, but now it was sailing well into the Twisting Nether, and a quick course correction and a kick to the engine kept him on track and on time. The circuit was easy enough to navigate in a machine, and Tiforis was no mere pilot. Soaring over the last beacon to the cheers of the crowd, he eased up on the accelerator and gently eased the machine back to the ground. He wiped his brow, grinning as he gave the machine another look. It really was something, and Adel had built this all by herself. Lovingly running a hand over the console, Tif managed to tear his gaze up to the board where a rather stressed looking slave was busy doing his best to keep the leader board accurate to the time of a lashing goblin. His last circuit was good enough for third place, and Bricu had yet to have his go.

A short walk and a few gold coins later enabled him full use of a rather out of the way tent, with enough privacy to let him fire up a small device, wrapping the light around him and cloaking him. "It isn't cheating if you got caught." Adel was deadset on seeing Dravir free, and a few adjustments to the other races couldn't hurt. A small explosive charge placed inside an engine here, putting the slightest spook into some of the live birds there. He weaved in and around the ground crews and bruisers, none of which noticed anything in the least over the roaring crowd. A good hour later, Tif sat back in Adel's flyer, leaning back and waiting for the other racers to be called. Things were going to get interesting, and he let his mind wander to thoughts of grease covered boobs wooing Goblins.

He grinned.

Icy, ozone tinted winds ripped at the wings of the drake. Eldritch cries echoed from the angry clouds, predators lusting for his blood. And in the distance, the soft, blinking light of the finish line. An awfully long, windshear laden, monster hiding distance. He yanked agressively on the harness of his drake, screaming at it over the gale.
"Fly, you dumb scaly beast! Cut across the currents!"
The Netherdrake, a young and dull specimen of its species at the best of times, struggled to comply, the storm tearing at its wings. It tucked and dove, ignoring it's flailing rider, and swooped low to the surface, twisting and turning around the jagged spires. Spinning into an updraft, it gracefully banked around the ugliest of the clouds, coming to a smooth, slow glide through the beacons that marked the end of the lap. It burbled as it rolled in towards the stables, its mind on the raw meat that it could already smell from the food pens.

Dravir didn't bother looking towards the boards displaying the times, or towards where the Boss was. His time had been dismal, but at least he was alive.

Bricu and Adel better have a good plan.

---------

The final times were in, and the bets were getting heavy. The Skyguard Bricu Bittertongue looked good, his time right in the top four of the racers, despite a perilous saddle malfunction. The other independant racer, another human, had scored in the high teens, enough to keep him in respectable place. Rumours were already flying about his strange human built flying machine- everyone knew only goblins built the best!

The sheets of scrying crystal floated down, and were secured under heavy wraps. The party began in earnest, as gold changed hands over petty bets and fists and drink flowed in equal amounts.

Outside the tents and domes, the stormed crackled and growled. It was angry... hungry... and on the morn, the racers would have to brave its fury redoubled.