THE BLADES.
Behind them, a hovercar followed at an equally frenetic pace, loaded up with two (2) cheerful Silver Blades, one (1) extremely nauseated Kaplan, and one (1) nervous squire.•
When Auvray finished with his cheerful ribbing of the Korporal's squire (the boy, poor creature, was stock still, clutching his borrowed longsword to his chest like a lifeline), he turned his attentions to the Kaplan. Whiter than a sheet, Amos was wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of a shaking, clammy hand.
"Bit faster than chocobos, aye?" Auvray said. With the squire he had been gleefully donning the mantle of initiation. However, with the priest there was a fond familiarity, more comfort than barb.
Amos managed a weak chuckle. "Quite."
Balder, who had heretofore been watching out the window, chimed in, "Faram hears your prayers, Father. We've arrived." The hovercar skidded to a halt, rattling its passengers. Preemptively, Auvray had held onto the Kaplan's shoulders. The latter had both hands slammed over his mouth, trying valiantly not to wheeze.
Even Storm could not refrain from his own choked laughter as he disembarked, holding the door open for his commanding officers. Soon after, heeding the Korporal's instructions, the squire deposited himself at the mouth of the cave.
"Strange match for Ric," Balder mused, but there was no time to dally. The Kaplan was a far cry from the quivering bundle he'd been in the car. His face now perfectly serene, his feet firmly planted on Faram's good terra firma, Amos led the pair of knights into the cave, where Rictor and Almalexia awaited them. The trio made for an impressive sight: the Kaplan, his white vestments flapping in the wind, almost one of the ghouls himself, flanked by the hulking knights, resplendent in their fullplate armour.