San Sebastian. Mysterious flying Cathedral of legend, a great stone citadel atop an island of cloud. Deep within its various cloysters was a massive main hall, lit by the sun shining through artistic murals of stained glass.

The doors of the main hall swung quietly open, and a single pair of footsteps echoed, ad nauseum, down the long asile. At the far end of the room was an altar, and upon the alter, a smokey-grey crystal, in side which some pulsating thing could just hardly be seen, held aloft on a stand of gold. The black-clad visitor knelt.

And a psionic voice drifted throughout the entire cathedral, seeming to come from everywhere at once. It was a very pleasent, gentle voice, though one that bore a faintly dark tint to it. The voice of a penitent deity.

Ordos, my dear friend. Where are we?

"Two knots south-south east of Jenovah City." The other replied.

It's here. My memory is here. I want it.

"I want to get it for you."

Thank you, my friend. Godspeed.

The visitor rose, and calmly, walked back out, closing the doors behind him.

A silver dragon flew low over the city of Jenovah. As it passed over the national museum, its rider jumped off, falling cleanly through the great skylight, landing in a crouch. With one hand, the cassok-wearing human reached behind him, pulling his spear free.

The guards ran out, and he tightened his grip on the spear as he stood, expression grim, but determined. "... Engage."

The guards, drawing swords, rushed him as soon as the judge had given the go-ahead. Even as they approached, however, he jumped. They were too smart to collide with each other, passing past each other. However, they had not yet turned around when he landed, allowing him to rather easily slip from behind the guard at his eleven o'clock, running into a side room...

And into a dimly lit area known as the Hall of Atrocities. What had inspired the locals to gather the implements and effects of the worst murderers into one location escaped the bishop, who paused upon entering.

The weight of dark on this room would have suppressed even the strongest illuminating spell. He shuddered, drawing upon his inner reserves of faith, and pushed it back. The shadows of the room flowed backward into a single point like a receding sphere, with their center at point equidistant between two points of a double-headed scythe at the far end of the room.

Advancing to it, he reacted only when one of the security guards shouted after him. "Just give it up! We have you surrounded!"

Ordos reached a hand to the weapon, and it collapsed in on itself, separating into two sections that folded up, seemingly for storage. His other hand gripped the spear tightly, and he stepped in front of the display, keeping the point low.

"I will return what belongs to the Clan to the Cathedral San Sebastian, come hell or high water..."

"Shit! Brace!"

The guard captain, you see, had not expected that powerful dragoon jump distance to be applied against a wall. His guards scrambled out of the way, and Ordos moved past them in a blur of black and steel, dragging the now-stolen weapon with him, bound in his green Sash.

"You'll never get away with this!"

The roar of a dragon, again nearly overhead. "... But I just did."

With that, he gave a great leap upward, and was away.

All that remained was to give any areal pursuers the slip...