Spies, Brawlers, Gunslingers, and Swordsworn.
The Sisters of the Heavenly Fire are ladies of dubious origins, gathered under the command of Mother Superior Ione. They are the lost ones. Former slaves, cast off concubines, pit fighters, orphans, cur...
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"Come along girls, no dallying." Valeris's tone was full of warning and stern but that did little to prepare Ramona for the sight of the train yard.
She was a girl from a secluded village. The closest she'd come to the trains was watching them pass from the top of Reckoner's Hill; great metal snakes that slithered at impossible speeds over the land on tracks of wood and iron. Her father helped lay the long track as a youth but he rarely spoke of it. No one in her village knew much about the trains, how they worked or what they carried. They didn't care. If it had nothing to do with business in the village as usual, no one cared a wink.
The yard unrolled before her, a living sculpture of criss-crossed tracks. The trains glided among them, long sleek constructions of plated metal. This close, she could see the individual plates each train was made of, riveted in place and sealed by alchemy that left oily black ribbons along the seams. The true art were the engines, each train gifted with a different work of soldered iron to represent the name of the engine. There was one with metallic tentacles curling along the sides of the front compartment. Another with the raised etching of herd of horses, their manes whipped back from their bodies to match the speed of the wind.
Instructor Valeris didn't stop walking. Ramona would have lost her in the bustling crowd of the yard if Agnes hadn't hooked her arm and pulled her along.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" The blond murmured, her eyes shining as she took in the scene. Ramona looked down at her, her eyes filled with awe.
"I've never seen many in one place, or so close."
Agnes nodded to the train Instructor Valeris approached. "This is the convent's personal transport."
It was much smaller than the others, only two cars and an engine compartment long, but the decorative scrawl and metal work were the most intricate of all. Ramona's eyes drank in the details, the etchings of warriors and demons, locked in an eternal brawl down the entire length of the two car train. At the engine compartment, the metal began to bend and twist in near fluid perfection. From the swirls rose an angel, metallic wings flattened back over the sides of the engine, divine features gleaming in the sun at the prow. The detail work was stunning, down to the individual lines in the angel's feathers, all shaped and drawn from unyielding steel.
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