Triskelli saw the flare and knew it was one of his own. He quickly replaced his look of horror with one of disappointment. "Er.. pity that. Target practice is over. Must remember to have these machine turrets replaced with flak-guns."
After getting the signal to land, Xenathos descended to the deck of the airship. Verne and Welles brushed themselves off. Verne was being snide; "What, no in-flight movie? *Pssh*, what a way to fly!"
Triskelli walked up to his men, with Nikolai close behind. "You two, report."
Welles clicked his heels and saluted. "Private Welles and Private Verne, sir! We were separated from our scouting party when we found this man traveling through the woods on his home. We decided to follow him and, well, he ambushed us. He requested a meeting with you sir, and he believed flying was the fastest way to get here."
"Hmm. You two are dismissed."
Triskelli turned to the stranger. His strange icy wings... or whatever they were, had vanished.
"And who do I have the honor of meeting?"
The warrior gave a fleeting glance at the man in uniform.
"You may call me Xenathos."
Triskelli gave a short bow. "It is an honor to have you as the first guest aboard the Sabre II. I'm afraid I must apologize for the rude welcome I gave you; it's lucky for us both that Nikolai here hasn't calibrated the aim on the guns yet. Heh-heh.."
Xenathos didn't laugh in return.
"So you wanted to meet with me? What can I do for you?"