"Religion makes intelligent people say and do wacky things, believe and affirm crazy things." ~ Christopher Hitchens

Shuzug and his adventurers stood clustered around the designated teleportation point of the settlement, taking shelter from a steady drizzling rain where they could. There were nearly a hundred such platforms scattered around the Orclands. The settlements themselves shifted seasonally, and with the ebb and flow of conflicts among the various tribes, but the system of teleportation platforms did not. They were permanent installations, enchanted to serve as anchor points for teleportation. The transport itself had to be powered by individual spatial mages (who made tremendous amounts of money in doing so), but without the enchanted anchor points it was much more difficult, and only the highest level (and thus best paid) mages could accurately open portals without them. By common consent then, the platforms were considered inviolate, neutral territory in any stable civilization, including the Orclands.

Lugrub and Ushug were slouched against some barrels, backpacks and collapsible glider frames at their feet, muttering to each other. "It's well past midday, brother, not that it's easy to tell in this weather. If the other paladin doesn't arrive soon, we'll have to go without him. It'll take us at least a half hour to ride out to the ruin, and the sky island's going to be overhead in about an hour. We'll only get one shot at this, maybe two at best, and there's no fallback plan," Lugrub scuffed her boots in the muddy soil, irritated. "I hate waiting around for things to happen, and especially in the rain."

Ushug just laughed, low and gravelly. "You don't say? And here I thought you a fucking paragon of patience." He tugged gently on his long, damp, black braid in a bit of his own nervous twitch.

His sister snarled at him soundlessly before grinning. "I'm a fucking paragon of all kinds of things, and don't you forget it!" She punched him in the shoulder. "Little runt better get here soon..."

Ushug just shook his head piously. "He may be a gnome, but he's also a senior paladin, so you might not want to get on his bad side by disparaging his size. Doubt he'd smite you for it, but you never know when healing hands may be a bit late to show..."

The other three orcs, waiting more stoically, but running the same calculations in their heads nonetheless, just watched the younger duo with mild amusement.

It wasn't much longer, though, before a golden glowing disk opened in the sky just above the surface of the platform and an exhausted horned rabbit carrying an even more exhausted gnome in full plate armor bounded through. The disk closed immediately thereafter, as the rabbit skidded to a full stop, trembling in place with a bit of froth visible in the corners of its mouth.

The gnome dismounted slowly and carefully in a stiffened series of movements the adventurers all recognized. He'd clearly been riding for quite some time and, by the looks of him, was old, even for a gnome. He whispered quietly into the rabbit's twitching ear, fished some sort of dried vegetable treat out for his mount, then straightened himself up and marched towards Shuzug and Lazgar, clearly identifying them as the likely leaders of the expedition.

"Hail and well met, lads. Milback Fremmoor, Paladin of Zymther, Lord of Order. I apologize for holding you up, but I was just tasked with this job less than 12 hours ago and have been on the move ever since. Pleased to meet you all." The gnome's voice was tired, but surprisingly deep and authoritative.

The two massive Orcs nodded at him respectfully. "I'm Shuzug, Clan Second and Official Dungeon Inspector. This is the party leader for the adventurers joining us – Lazgar, Paladin of Drogma. Over yonder," and he nodded towards the duo by the barrels who had straightened up, "are Ushug and Lugrub, a barbarian and a rogue, as I expect you guessed. And our last companion is Orbul, a mage with a focus on fire spells." He pointed out the older mage, with a respectful nod.

Lazgar chimed in with his own, deep, authoritative voice, "Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, we're on a tight schedule and we'll have to get going almost immediately. No disrespect intended, but if you have no objections, we'll make better time if you and your mount ride with me. It should only be another half hour's ride, but the two of you look exhausted."

Sir Milback stiffened a bit, but bit down on his pride from long practice. "Ach. Not my favorite thing, but I see the necessity. I've done more embarrassing things in pursuit of a quest before. I'll take you up on your offer as the courteous one it was." He sighed. "Now convincing the rabbit onto a horse is going to take some persuasion, so I'd best get started with that. Which of these massive beasts is yours, then?"

"Ah, that'd be the roan, there. Would you and your rabbit be most comfortable in front of me, or perched on the saddlebags, d'you think?"

The gnome eyed the saddle and the orc, briefly, before voting for the saddlebags. "I suspect the bags will be both broader and more comfortable. If I can talk my doe down, I'll need one of you to lift her aboard. Perhaps lower your shield and I'll ride her on to it. With me aboard, she's less likely to startle."

Lazgar nodded. "I'd best get on first, though. Don't imagine she'd react well to me swinging my leg over her. Ushug can raise you both up. You have everything you need for your quest?"

The gnome shrugged. "I had no time to pack anything but my usual go bag. My lord will provide – or I can forage. Gnomes are easy to keep fed..."

A few false starts with the rabbit, and they were all mounted up and on their way. Sir Milback kept himself awake through sheer force of will, not trusting the rabbit to stay without his constant reassurance. Still, as Lazgar had said, the journey was only about half an hour, if an uncomfortable one for all in the steady drizzle.

The ruins in question covered the top of a small hill standing out from the grasslands above a small stream. The final stretch involved a winding path up the rubble-strewn hillside where they had to lead the horses, ending up in front of a small, now roofless, structure facing a cramped plaza or atrium, with steps leading down from the entryway. They tied the horses to pillars along a small colonnade where they'd set up a makeshift roof and set out fodder and water for a few days.

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The gnomish paladin noted the preparations with disapproval but said nothing. Shuzug just nodded at him, acknowledging the less-than-ideal stabling. "I've arranged for men to retrieve the horses if we're not back in three days; in the meantime, my nephew will be along to watch over them by nightfall. And the ruins have been long cleared of any monsters or large beasts; they'll be safer than we are."

Milback nodded. "Sorry if I seemed judgmental. I've seen too many adventurers neglect their mounts. And I'm too tired to really be patient."

The clan second shrugged. "S'fine. I've seen it too, though it's rare in the Orclands. We rely on our horses too much to undervalue them." He patted his big roan fondly. "Are you bringing your mount along, or leaving her here? It's not an option for us, but I expect one of us could carry her."

The diminutive paladin pondered that briefly. "Best leave her here, I think. She's battle-trained and all, but I don't know that would extend as far as teleporting into mid-air and then riding a glider. And I can't see one of you feeling confident enough to hold a frantic rabbit and steer a glider all at the same time. I can tell her to stay in this area for three days to wait for me; we have enough of a bond."

Shuzug nodded. "I always envied that. Lazgar can give his mount fairly complicated instructions too. Alas, I'm not really pious enough to be a paladin." He smiled, "More of a follower than a leader of men, anyways."

He turned to his orc compatriots. "Alright, here's the plan, one last time. Orbul says that once we hit the basement floor, the door will slam shut behind us after about 30 seconds, and ten seconds later we'll be teleported en masse about 3 km in the air. None of us have tried this before, though, since there's a long recharge time for a trap like this, normally."

He looked around as they all grunted confirmation, albeit sounding a bit on edge. "Milback, I'll have you ride atop my pack and hold tight to my braid. We'll take up the practiced positions, facing outwards with glider frames in hand. Once the teleport is complete, we coast away from each other for three seconds and pop the gliders. From there, it's every glider for itself as we attempt to make for the sky island. If we can catch an updraft and make the central plateau , great. If not, we get as close as we can, drink a spider climb potion, and make for the side of the island. Keep climbing until you make the surface; for Drogma's sake, don't crawl into any unexplored caves if you can help it! By our best calculations, we're estimating about 10 minutes from now will be the optimal window."

They nodded, all except for Milback having heard this before.

"If any of us fail to make it onto the island, we'll attempt to return here quickly and hope the trap has enough charge to try again. Failing that, wait here with the horses and we'll meet up once we're done. Lazgar, you have the archivist's shipment, yes?"

The Orcish paladin nodded amusedly. "For the fourth time today, yes, Shuzug, I do."

Lugrub snickered but quieted under Shuzug's glare. "Quiet, you." His grin took the sting out of it. "Better to be overprepared for something like this."

Milback smiled tiredly. "Right then, quick bathroom break for everyone, and then we're off."

The orcs snorted at his fatherly comment but took him up on his solid advice.

*********************************

Soon enough, it was time to begin. They ran through a last-minute equipment check, finding nothing out of place and filed down the stairs into the small basement room. They had no idea what wizard had placed this trap, or what it had been intended to protect. Anything of value in these ruins had been stripped centuries earlier, but the trap endured and would be put to positive use, likely for the first time ever.

They marched through the open entryway briskly, heading towards their appointed positions. A stone barrier crashed into place, blocking the door and speeding everyone's heartbeat as they awaited the teleport. A golden light flared in the room, a wrenching twisting feeling in their guts spoke of unexpected movement, and all of a sudden, they were in mid-air, colder, thinner air rushing past their faces as they were suddenly plummeting – sun shining down on their backs as the rain clouds below blocked all sight of land. Except, of course, for the sky island, which was suddenly much closer and much larger than before. One by one, the gliders each snapped out, enchanted leather catching the air and the black, screaming hawk of Glasha's sigil dominating the red-painted field on each wing.

Three of the gliders were facing closely enough that their pilots could simply lean a bit to direct them in the correct direction. The other three had to bank and wheel a bit, searching first, but it was a difficult landmark to miss. Their projections appeared to be pretty close, and they were only, perhaps, two kilometers away, but not far above the bottom of the sky island. If they couldn't locate an updraft, they very well might not make it to the island itself. Aside from the ancient teleport trap, this was the most dubious part of the plan and the rainy weather was working against them. They might be above the rain, mercifully, but traditional updrafts weren't going to form under these conditions. Their best hope was to simply fly straight at the sky island and hope that since they were coming at it from in front of its movement, the air it was pushing aside would offer some upward movement.

As it happened, they got lucky. As they got to within about a kilometer from the base of the sky island, they crossed a nearly tangible barrier of rushing air forming what Orbul later estimated to be a massive bubble, holding a higher density, warmer body of air separate from the cooler, thinner surrounding atmosphere. That barrier seemed to flow outward from the bottom tip of the sky island and loop out and around the island before crashing back down into the top tip of the island – in much the same pattern as the magnetic fields of a bipolar magnet. Either some mechanism recirculated the air from there, or gale force winds must constantly blow down on the mountain top; it seemed unlikely, to Orbul at least, that the winds actually blew back down through a hollow center of the island. It wasn't what was keeping the island aloft, at least, or it would be carving a swath across the face of the realm wherever it went.

That was a question she would grapple with much later. In the moment, Orbul and all the other gliders were grappling with the turbulent updraft that provided a much more focused lift than anticipated. The band of winds was only about 20 meters thick, so to continue rising they had to circle regularly through it, straining both their harnesses and the bindings holding the sailcloth to the frame. Milback was particularly grateful that he'd had the forethought to strap himself firmly to the backpack frame as even the fringe of the winds pushing around Shuzug's muscular torso were enough to lift his light body, plate armor and all.

Still, it took only five or six loops through the blasting updraft before they rose above the level of the centerline and sailed their ragged formation inward towards the island itself, sun already setting behind the mountain as they strafed in towards the nearest open space, having neither the daylight nor the altitude to search for the traditional landing point near the dungeon entrance.

They swooped into a landing in an open grassy area not far from the leading edge of the sky island, their thumping, generally graceless, landing startling an array of small birds and creatures who mostly sped inwards towards the brushy edge of an open woodland. The adventuring party dismounted from their gliders, unclenching slowly from their white-knuckled grip and rising shakily to their feet.

By common consensus, a round of fist bumps and shoulder checks preceded the simple business of breaking down the gliders and taking stock of their situation.

Shuzug shook his head and voiced the common sentiment. "Fucking hells! I can't believe that actually worked. I'mma be telling that story in taverns for years to come... Uh... Praise Drogma!

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