//------------------------------//
// Lay Your Head to Rest 
// Story: Urohringr 
// by Imploding Colon 
//------------------------------//

	Josho blasted the face off of a diving pegasus.  He and several other ponies ducked as the creature dove past the edge of the temple, gargling purple ooze.  In the meantime, the obese stallion turned and shouted at a train of Ledomaritans and Xonans levitating metal zeppelin parts towards the large structure with the Tarkington.  "Get the bridge built!  Or else this is our last stop!"  He took another blast at the swarm, ducked their swipes, and slid over to where Arcshod and Seclorum stood crouched over the twitching figure of Aatxe.  "H-how bad is he?!" Josho breathlessly asked.

"He... he..."  Seclorum grimaced.

"Grkkk—Hauckkkt!"  Aatxe—wide eyed—vomited a dollop of violet-tainted bile onto the granite beneath him.  He curled his limbs to his chest as the slime slowly spread across his coat.  "Like... I'm m-melting... my insides..."  He hissed in pain, then squinted up at the group.  "Gentlecolts... I-I never once thought I'd see my ship again."  He gulped.  "Much less flying."

"Knock it off, dammit," Seclorum sneered.  "You just got sprayed with the crud!  It's not like they bit you or—"

Josho's hoof rested on Seclorum's shoulder.

The old soldier clenched his eyes shut, taking several deep breaths.  "Arcshod..."

The Xonan jerked a glance at him.

"The other ponies need you to finish the bridge."

Arcshod scowled.

"Well?!"  Seclorum turned to glare at him.  "What are you waiting for, ya big oaf?!  We're all dead if we stay here!"

"Grnnghhh..."  Arcshod's nostrils fumed as his tattoos glimmered in sequence with his horn.  "V'renna sela'thenmar rekk threen..."  He stormed off, wrenching his gaze off of Aatxe's tortured figure.

More shrieks filled the air, carried along the hurricane winds.

"Elma, we have to move..."  Bellesmith stammered, heathing the breathless fascimile of Eagle Eye over her shoulder.  "Hold on tight to me.  Listen to my voice, not hers!"  She scampered over to where Arcshod was forming the rest of the bridge.  "Props!" she shouted.

Props stood in the dead-center of the temple, gazing with misty eyes at Aatxe's figure.

"Props!" Belle exclaimed louder.  "We need you to cross over first!  You're carrying the mana crystals!"

"Do as she says, blondie," Josho said as softly as he could, glancing over his shoulder.  "And make sure Lasairfion follows you close behind.  We need the Queen's magic to defend the Tarkington as it takes off."

"Right..."  Props sniffled and galloped along.  "Right righ right..."

Prowse watched her, panting, then flung his gaze towards the sky.  "The... th-the buggers are coming in from all directions!  I don't know where to aim my boomstick!"

"Prowse..."  Aatxe wheezed, flinching in the rain.  Unable to form words, he instead motioned with what was left of his left hoof.

The pale stallion immediately rushed over, standing over the steaming figure.  "Yes, laddie?"

Aatxe gulped.  "Those th-things want blood.  And I-I have some in me still..."

"What are you even getting at?"

"Do... d-do you have those explosives still?"

Prowse clenched his jaws.  He glanced at the others.

Josho was silent.  Seclorum hung his head... before slowly nodding.

"Awww Hell..."  Prowse unhitched the crate of rattling charges from his backside.  "Even if you took an entire squad of them freaks out, this place still has ten times as many to toss at us—"

"It doesn't matter... none of that m-matters..."  Aatxe spat up more ooze... but smiled.  "My ship is a fast ship... a b-beautiful ship..."  He hissed and spat.  "And th-there's no better grease monkey to bring her b-back to life than you, Prowse..."

"Aatxe..."

"Face it.  I lived my life here... in th-this wretched place..."  Aatxe curled up again, wincing.  "Hckkkt... pr-promise me, friend, th-that you'll get the others out of here so they can live their lives elsewhere..."

Prowse nodded firmly.  "I will.  I swear on what's left of my banged-up body and soul, I'll get these ponies—and your ship—off this slime drenched crud heap."

"Then th-that's what matters..."  Aatxe nodded.

"They're swooping in!" Josho exclaimed.  "Boys...?"

Aatxe motioned for the crate.

Prowse clenched his teeth and slid it over.

Aatxe gripped the edge, tilting it over so that the explosives rattled to a stop against his body.  He limply scooped several of them up at once.  His eyes darted over to Seclorum.  "Hey... soldier..."

Seclorum stared at him through foggy eyes.

Aatxe smirked.  "Never stop fighting..."  He coughed, snorted, and breathed, "But find some time to love as well..."

Seclorum slowly, slowly nodded.  He reached his forelimb forward.

Aatxe lifted his.  With an inch to spare, however, both stallions avoided making contact, settling for an imagined hoof-bump.  Slime spread over Aatxe's body, forcing him to whimper slightly in pain.  He rolled over, causing the explosives to rattle like loose pebbles.

"Okay!  Everypony else is across!"  Josho shouted, backtrotting towards the bridge as he aimed his shotgun at the sky.  "Incoming—"

"No!" Aatxe managed to yell.  He stood up on wobbling legs, his body dribbling purple muck to the floor as he shuffled towards the middle of the platform.  "Don't fire!  Let them come... let them c-come to me."

Josho gnashed at his teeth.  With a grunt, he turned and galloped full-speed across the floating bridge while Arcshod maintained it.  Prowse followed short behind, glancing over his shoulder.  "Seclorum!  Time to go, laddie!"

Seclorum held his breath, turned, and sprinted across the bridge.  The unicorns holding up the rear dropped their zeppelin pieces and ran after him—one levitating plank at a time.  At last, Arcshod drew up what was left of the rusted chunks and threw them to the winds of Stratopolis.  As for the pegasi—

"Hey!" Aatxe's gargling voice sliced through the winds.  He tossed one grenade high into the air.  It burst overhead, illuminating the gray malaise of the storm with a brief plume of fiery orange.  "Over here, you mangy death pigeons!  Dinner's served!"

The diving figures spiraled about, ribboned their way through the air, and converged on the platform where the sputtering stallion stood.  He fell back as they pounced on him, but fought and struggled with a stifled howl.

"Raagghhhgh—Is th-that all you've got?!  Grrhghhh—I've been waiting eightteen years for th-this dance!"

A sheet of heavy rain shot between the platforms, obscuring the struggle.

Bellesmith watched from the cover of a granite pillar.  Props stood, shivering in the rain, while her uncle paused at her side to steady her with a natural hoof.  Lasairfion and Arcshod stood in reverant silence while the survivors rushed for cover behind them.  Among the galloping ponies were Josho and Seclorum, the latter of which stopped within stone's throw of the stranded Tarkington to turn and glance at the platform beyond.

It would not last for long.  Kapowwwww!  In a brilliant spray of combined explosions, the battered temple evaporated with a spray of purple mist and limbs.  The hurricane winds carried off the gore and debris before it could remotely make its way towards where the survivors were currently perched.  For a heavenly spell, the air was devoid of undead shrieks... or the bellowing shouts of one brave stallion.