Beatrice enters the room, slightly disheveled, undead ichor dripping from her daggers, and takes in the situation. She readily passes her hands through her copper blonde locks and straightens her dress, restoring herself to her usual beauty and smiling in a lovely way.
"Now, let's not be hasty. We may have started out with the wrong foot. My name is Beatrice, Beatrice Rucellai, you may have heard of me. As our ship was attacked, we assumed you were out to get to us, as we've been ambushed by vile and abject enemies, but in seeing your wondrous power, I can see that you are surely a worthier foe than we assumed you to be. We respect your power, and seek no quarrel with you, we don't need to be enemies. There surely is something we can do for you, in exchange for safe passage, and possibly the life of that girl. How about we talk about it? On my word of honor, I will not harm you."
Captain Jebat floated out of improvised weapon range and continued to rain lightning on the weather deck trying not to electrocute his passengers. Although the demonstration of divine power was physically thrilling, his mind wandered. Where was that ship built? I wander if I knew any of those bones when they lived. Wonder where they are heading.
Kostya wasn't especially skilled at interacting and influencing others. He had virtually no practice in social situations as he'd often worked alone back in Nezdohva, one of the few humans in his boyar's direct employ. Even after being admitted to the Artificer's Guild he didn't really start working with others until he had started to travel and learn from the engineers from the Bright Republic. So instead of potentially ruining whatever Khatef and Beatrice were trying to do he simply stood back and tried to project the idea that if the man decided not to be friends with them, it would likely be the last bad decision of his life.
Ultimately though Kostya could only see one way in which he could deal with the problem in front of them. But a straightforward attack didn't leave much of a chance for the young woman to get out of this situation alive. Although he still wondered at the necessity of them all risking themselves on this one woman there was a noticeable upside. The second that woman died, he had no reason to hold back. And he was betting the man with the knife realized that as well.
Beatrice enters the room, slightly disheveled, undead ichor dripping from her daggers, and takes in the situation. She readily passes her hands through her copper blonde locks and straightens her dress, restoring herself to her usual beauty and smiling in a lovely way.
"Now, let's not be hasty. We may have started out with the wrong foot. My name is Beatrice, Beatrice Rucellai, you may have heard of me. As our ship was attacked, we assumed you were out to get to us, as we've been ambushed by vile and abject enemies, but in seeing your wondrous power, I can see that you are surely a worthier foe than we assumed you to be. We respect your power, and seek no quarrel with you, we don't need to be enemies. There surely is something we can do for you, in exchange for safe passage, and possibly the life of that girl. How about we talk about it? On my word of honor, I will not harm you."[dice=Charisma (threshold 3)]1d20
Khatef hesitates a moment to see how the man responds to this bluff.
"I don't think we can risk having you so nearby, and I think Beatrice wants to save the girl. It's a win-win for us if you die."
At the last word, Khatef reaches for that feeling he kept having in the other place, and wills misfortune on the man.
The ship yaws violently to the side, tilted by a chance wave, and the man stumbles and hits his head on a beam.
As Khatef attacks, Beatrice leaps forward with her daggers, trying to shield the girl with her body, sung words from a duel scene echoing in her mind.
You DARE create ugliness such as undead? In front of ME?"
Kostya was ready when he heard the tone of what Khatef was saying. He knew that things were about to get interesting in a second so he leaned his weight forward slightly and when the ship moved unnaturally he took that for his chance and charged in, throwing a punch at the man's head as hard as he could. There had been time early on when Kostya wasn't sure how much of his might to use in any given situation. He had left bruises on his mother and sister as he carried them out of Nezdohva without realizing it. They never blamed him for it but he had hated feeling like his strength might be out of his own control. He didn't like things he didn't understand so he spent time adjusting and practicing. These days he could handle the most delicate of components when making his artifice creations and then a split second later flip to explosive force. He did this now, knowing that the man before him was one that he had no need to hold back against.
| Hit
| 4 Damage
"It's her who's casting!" Beatrice yells. "Can you block her magic? And you, dirty, ugly, dead coward, face me! Or are you afraid of a girl when she's not chained?"
Trying to avoid hurting her, the singer lunges with her knives towards the man's face, although her hits go wild.
Captain Jebat continues to float beyond improvised weapon range and rains lightning on the weather deck destroying undead as quickly as they assemble. Although the demonstration of divine power Is physically thrilling, his mind wanders to the point that he starts singing a sailing shanty.
Finally, he shouts at his passengers,
"I can barely control my own powers, much less hers. And that power...I don't want to be on the wrong end of it. If she is unconscious or dead, it has the same effect."
Khatef steps in, swinging his brass knuckles at the girl, and willing misfortune on her as well. Should his knuckles connect, they drive her controller's knife deeper into her body, widening the wound.
"NO!" shouts the Lady of Art and Dreams. "She's a prisoner! A slave! I won't stand for killing innocents! Kostya, please separate her from that old bastard!"
"And I won't stand for her killing one of us!" Khatef shouts back.
"If you have a better solution, do it, but do it QUICKLY!"
Beatrice shivers in irritation. "I can't manage to get power together. Stop her magic, or kill him, but don't attack a prisoner!"
"The only way I know to stop her magic is to stop her. Which is what I'm doing."
"My power reserves are no more limitless than your own. I choose not to leave myself defenseless."
Kostya felt a chill that seemed to spread over his entire body, it felt almost like a cold diseased hand had caressed him and tried to pull something from him. He had to assume that the girl had some power over death at this point, that she was the one animating the creatures on the deck. Personally he was moved to end her life in that instant. But he could see that Beatrice wanted to avoid that if at all possible so instead he called on what remained of his inhuman will and effort he forced himself to be stronger than this old man no matter what. There was no chance he could lose to him and there was nothing that could stop him from pushing the old man away from the young woman and tearing her free.
He would push the old man further away from their group as he wrenched the woman backwards, towards Beatrice and Khatef. Hopefully they would be able to get her up to Jebat, "Get her away from the ship! Or just knock her out. If she's far enough away there wont be anything to direct or control the undead!"
The extreme imposition on his will to be stronger took more out of him than he expected it to. It drained him and although he was fairly certain this would help get the woman to safety it didn't leave him the time or effort to make an attack against the man and left him somewhat open. He just had to hope that the old man was too reliant on the young woman to be a threat on his own.
Beatrice checks the girl's pulse, silently wondering what sort of effect is keeping her subjugated. She only knew slavery through tales of travelers who'd been to the Patrian Empire, and she despised the thing. But a sort of slavery that could wrestle control of your own mind? That was even more horrifying. "Thanks, Kostya. I think we're safe, I don't believe that we should pursue, not so blindly. Should we get back to the ship?"
She then straightens her dress, breathing heavily and looking at the portal with an uneasy expression on her face. "Then, perhaps, we should talk. Make sure our priorities aren't clashing. We haven't exactly had time to get to know each other." Such bitterness that he'd kill a girl who's obviously a slave, what sort of hardship has he gone through? Was he taught that he's disposable, so that he started seeing others that way?
The Storm Captain continues to float beyond improvised weapon range and ineffectively rains lightning on the weather deck destroying undead as quickly as they assemble.
He shouts at his passengers, . He wonders if he needs to find another pantheon to prevent the end of the world again.
"Agreed. Let's leave."
Khatef keeps a very close eye on the girl the whole way. He doesn't want to bring her, but doubts he'd be able to convince Beatrice otherwise.
"We're fine!" he calls up to Jebat.
"The man left, and we have the girl in hand!"
Kostya nods to Beatrice, "I have to agree. Although I would prefer to wait here while its open to make sure that nothing comes through the other side behind us."
True to his word Kostya stretched and took up a position between the door and the portal. He would wait for it to close before they left. He didn't want the old man coming through and stabbing them in the back or otherwise sabotaging what they had accomplished. Frankly though Kostya was ready for a break. It felt like they had been fighting almost non-stop since they arrived in that strange otherworldly realm. He had taken a bit of a beating over the last day or so and it would be good to rest, repair and get his energy back. That commitment of effort and will that seemed to drive any act of strength in him was almost burnt out. All he really wanted to do what sleep. But he also wasn't about to be stabbed in the back by some old man for falling asleep before they were relatively safe.
"Once we get back to the boat I think we could all do with a bit of rest. The young woman included. Besides if she is drugged or under some spell that might give it time to run its course. We can take turns watching her. Although I dont need to sleep I would appreciate some downtime to repair the bits of damage done to me during the fights."
The link must have broken, it sounds like it was mind control after all...
With her most maternal smile and soothing voice, Beatrice speaks at the girl. "Hi there. Don't worry, we're friends." She glances at Khatef for a brief moment before continuing. "I am Beatrice. You were being kept hostage by an old man, we freed you, you are safe now. What is your name?"
Khatef keeps a very close eye on the girl from a corner of the room.
Jebat gets into a rhythm of raining lightning on the weather deck. He casually watched his own ship board and capture the second ship.
When the corpses collapse, he lands on the deck and starts assessing it's ship-worthiness while waiting for his passengers to emerge.
Kostya sat down and leaned back against the wall of the ship once the portal finally closed. He began reaching into his jacket and taking out a number of strange little tools and trinkets that he then began going over his body with. If he was given enough down time he could repair most of the damage done to the various parts of his body. Natural healing time would help a little but so much of Kostya was artificial deep down that it would be better to simply call it maintenance, rather than healing. He would let Beatrice talk to the girl. Occasionally he would glance up at her as well, noticing that thankfully Khatef was doing the same. Just because she had appeared to be under some sort of control from the man didn't necessarily make her an ally.
If his passengers take too long, Captain Jebat saunters down where his passengers went.
"Use you? No, no, we want to help you." She was wielding an impressive amount of power... could she be a Godbound too?
"We'll keep you safe, don't you worry, dear. But you will need a name. Do you like "Stella"? It means "Star" in my language."
Captain Jebat glides into the cabin with the easy comfort of a sailor. Looking around, he sees Kostya fixing himself and Beatrice talking to some waif. He assumes the sneaky one is around, too.
"The dead stopped animating on deck. What took so long? Who's the girl?" The Storm Captain nonchalantly asks.
"She is either a puppet or Godbound in her own right that nearly killed Kostya. We are determining whether she did it of her own will."
"Why, Khatef, the Oasis States must be an interesting place if something you do while bound, drugged, and under a knife can be considered of your own will."
"What a convenient drug. It wears off the moment your 'captor' is out of the room."
A glow radiates from Beatrice's skin as her eyes squint in hostility. "You want to try mind control for yourself, little sociopathic man, just come to me at sunrise, and we'll test until you have no more doubts."
"Right. So, everyone is alive. That's good. I'll go get my crew to take this ship, too. We can figure out which ship you want to sail on later." Captain Jebat says.
He spins and glides back up to the weather deck. Then, a wind gust lifts him up and carries him to the deck of his ship near his second in command. "Jalak, Jalak! Dispatch a skeleton crew to the other ship to face no resistance. Everything is dead and unmoving. Report on the status here."
A glow radiates from Beatrice's skin as her eyes squint in hostility. "You want to try mind control for yourself, little sociopathic man, just come to me at sunrise, and we'll test until you have no more doubts."
"Mind control? I thought you said she was drugged? Make up your mind."
"Either way, I want to hear it from her lips. If she tells the truth, all is forgiven."
A mix of repulsion, curiosity and incredulity crosses Beatrice's face. "You know exactly what I meant, don't hide yourself by twisting my words. Whether it was a drug, a spell, or the Gods' power itself, it makes little difference. But it's more than that, isn't it? You don't trust anyone but yourself, and you don't care for anyone but yourself either. Where I see a frightened, harmed child who could be someone's daughter or sister, you only see a threat to yourself, you don't see her suffering, you only fear what she could do to you."
She looks again at him, her mouth half open, puzzlement on her face.
What can ever twist a man so much away from compassion, from his fellow humans? In the stories, suffering brings up willpower, determination, but he just lacks empathy, trust... love. I want to ease his suffering, and yet he I find him so repulsive.
"I trust what I can see, hear, and feel. Blind trust leads to MORE suffering, more fear, and more harm. Everyone is someone's daughter or son. That doesn't stop the rest of the world from being liars, cheats, murderers, and beggars." his face twists in particular distaste at the last.
Captain Jebat flies among the three ships to check on their status. When they near ready to make way, he lands on his ship and orders Jalak to set course for Savona. Then, he relays the order to the two prizes.
With ships under orders, Jebat returns to his passengers and looks around the last prize to make their travels more comfortable. "Right. How are you doing? I've set course for Savona, which is near where Lady Beatrice is from. Let me know if you want to stay here or move to my ship. I can fly you, or you can take a jolly boat." The Storm Captain and his crew seem well-practiced at securing prizes.
"I'll go to your boat."
To get away from Beatrice and the girl, mostly.
"Then I can stay here with Stella, so that Khatef will not need to fear for his life. By the way, Vissian artisans make the most exquisite mechanical hands. You may consider that."
Khatef's eyes briefly light up with interest, then dim again.
"Not...yet." he says, absently stroking his wrist again.
"The hand is a reminder. When I don't need that reminder any more...maybe then."
"...Thank you."
"Thanks for helping me save her." Beatrice rises to her toes, kissing Kostya on the cheek.
During the travel, Beatrice cares for Stella, as much as her little experience with children allows her to. She heals her wounds, speaks to her, trying to understand the source of her powers and the degree of control she has over them. And, when night falls, she sings her to sleep before heading to the bridge, watching the pitch-black night sea or speaking to Kostya, who is as insomniac as her.