<< | | | >>
The captain looks to everyone crowded around his cramped table. "Thank you all for joining me. I'm glad we were able to eat together and talk of our day tomorrow. However, it's growing late and tomorrow will be very busy. Let's call it a night."
He's not forceful, allowing the last of the conversation to peter out and everyone to file out of his cabin and back to their own.
<< | | | >>
The next morning passes quickly. It's an hour or so before noon when a smudge of white appears on the horizon. It grows closer and closer, until it resolvess into a massive bank of fog hanging over the ocean. It's easily three or four hundred feet tall, and once they are close, stretches to fill their whole fields of vision. The captain and crew of the Breath chart a course parallel to the mists and begin to skirt them. Before long, another ship comes into view. It is much smaller, and has only a single deck and mast. There are a few score men (with a light smattering of femininity) sitting in the open decked ship on benches. They are a mixture of Aspis soldiers, slaves and the pirate vessel's crew. Khanjar and a man who can only be captain Bengt Hagebak stand in the prow of the longship. The captain is a huge man, half of whose face is covered in a massive burn scar. The other half of his head erupts blonde shaggy hair in all directions. His half-beard is long and matted with dirt and sweat, as is his dreadlocked mane. His bulk appears to be equally muscle and fat under his hodgepodge of rich clothing which exhibits styles from all over Golarion. Both crews (at least those who aren't busy) gather excitedly on the decks as the ships draw near. The massive Ulfen pirate yells out, "AHOY THE BREATH!" in greeting as soon as they are in earshot. He nods to Khanjar, their prearranged signal for him to whip the oar slaves into action to bring the Besmara's Bounty alongside the Breath for mooring.
Get moving scum! The rough and deep voice of a hobgoblin hissed, over the second crack of a long bullwhip. Standing on top of a crate near the mast of the Breath the slaver cut a menacing figure. ROW! AGAIN! He hollered, his voice accompanying the booming of an oarsmans drum to keep pace for the slaves. Common you mongrels! So help me, if you think this was hard, wait until we get on shore. Amid the moaning and grunting of the slaves, the Breath slid up along the water and was quickly was along side. As ropes came over and the two ships were lashed together the hobgoblin stepped over the railing. Taking two long purposeful sides, the slaver shook his head. bottom of the barrel, not a fit slave among them. Looking up, Kahnjar watched as the Captain Hagebak stepped over as well to join the others. Nodding at the rest of the team, Kahnjar waved his hands towards the half-bearded man. Agent's, I trust your trip went smoothly? Allow me to introduce Captain Hagebak, who will be taking us ashore.
Penance lifts his fist in greeting to the burly captain's yell. "Ahoy the Bounty!" he calls in turn.
Despite himself he's rather awed by the enormous bank of fog. The reality of what they are undertaking is settling home.
He nods to the hobgoblin in an assessing fashion. "Aye, smooth enough if you don't count dragons and hags. Cap'n," he says with a nod at the big man.
Devram grunts when he sees the Hobgoblin step over the railing. He rolls his eyes and mumbles to Nim. "Great, a Hobgoblin slaver. You'd better watch your girls, Nim."
The Aldori steps up behind Penance and nods to the Ulfen man. "Captain Hagebak. Devram Coates. Welcome to our little expedition." He looks to the Hobgoblin and nods again as his only introduction.
Emerion adjust his lenses and replies to Devram quietly.
"It would be most unwise for anyone to interfere with what an Aspis agent rightfully claims. Theft is a grave sin in the consortium."
Taking in the sight he was mentally cataloging the slaves, men, and resources they would be bring to the project. He wondered if he could claim a few slaves for his personal use. Erudira and Iellana were enough to serve him but if he was expected to work properly he would need a larger staff, which he would need to train as well. A revolving door of servants would impede his work rather then help it. Picking those well suited would factor in as well.
Somewhat lost in thought he snaps back to the here and now. Steeping forward as well.
"Captain, I am Emerion Nimlaidas. An honor to meet you and your fine ship. I look forward to a productive and beneficial relationship."
To the slaver he spares a nod of acknowledgement.
Peering out over the deck of The Breath, Yamakawa Shinjuko takes stock of the new arrivals. She remains silent for the time being, eyes shifting from one person to another as she attempts to gain a methodical, full measure of each individual in turn. The hobgoblin seems to command a great presence through fear and threat. He will no doubt prove exceedingly useful in the forced march through harsh terrains beyond the veil of fog.
Iliante stands behind and looks over Shinjuko's shoulder. He hates slaving longships: no elegance to harnass the wind, only brute force. The hobgoblin was not his favorite agent at the meeting, and he was happy that it missed the departure. Unfortunately, it returned.
Up close, captain Hagebak's scarred face is even more hideous. He has wild, bright blue eyes. His left eye is partially obscured by the scar tissue. The rough and ready looking captain eyes them all over closely, absentmindedly resting the heel of his hand on the top of the battle axe in his belt. "Aye," he growls in minimal response to everyone's greetings, revealing his incomplete set of yellowed teeth. He sneers at captain Wangerre. "Glad ter see you're still a snobbish dick, Wangerre. So what's the plan lads?" he asks the Agents, completely ignoring Shinjuko. "Me boys are ready fer land, three f**+ing weeks in an open ship aint no f!~#ing cup of tea. Especially not with a load of stinking slaves and landlubbing soldiers clogging things up."
Corridan joins the pale woman and the undine, his approach silent save for the soft tapping sound of his trademark cane. "Yamakawa-san, Mr. Iliante," he says simply, nodding his head in greeting at both of them before his eyes turn towards the other ship and the people on it.
"Ah," he remarks calmly, conversationally, "I see our erstwhile associate has finally joined us." He then turns his gaze to the large Ulfen man, affording him, or rather his choice of attire, an appraising look. "My my my, that is quite a taste in fashion, would you not agree?"
Telemakos makes sure Arasmes is at his side, looking formidable, when he goes on the upper deck to greet the Bounty. “Oh for Nethys’ Mask…that dreadful character is back then…” he murmurs when he sees Khanjar.
“Don’t worry Master, I’ll take care of him! I’m tired of missing all the action!”
“You… ah, never mind. Don’t anger him, ‘Ras. We will probably need his help too with this endeavor.” Telemakos adjusts his clothes and gets closer to Iliante, Shinjuko and mr. Valkeri.
He is about to speak up when Corridan remarks on the Captain’s eccentric clothes. Remembering how little the sailor’s taste differs from his own, Telemakos thinks wise not to make a comment on that regard. That’s what I need, having a fine professional like mr. Valkeri think I’m as tacky as that awful pirate!
He clears his throat to announce his presence with the trio. “Ehm… so it seems this is it, isn’t it? No more worrying about cramped spaces and sea-sickness… although I guess we still will have to worry about the monsters: those never seem to run out.”
"Yep. No more comfortable cabins and fresh wind in our face." Iliante replies genuinely disappointed in landfall.
"Alright, Captain, I think everyone's itching for land at this point." He glances at Ilante. "Well, almost everyone."
"How exactly, do we sail into these mists? Isn't it at night?"
Both of the captains turn at Devram's question. Wangerre answers, "Yes, at night. We might not be in the exact right place, but we're close. After star rise I can check the chart. At the right time, the Mists will open up and we sail through. We need to know where you Agents and the soldiers will be, and where we are going to land though. Perhaps you should discuss it amongst yourselves and form a definite plan while I entertain Captain Hagebak."
The uflen captain interjects, "Aye, rum and pussy, pronto!" He saunters further onto the deck, slapping the bums of two of the female sailors. The human one looks disgusted. She spits at him and retreats rapidly to continue her work. The dwarven sailor smiles and throws her arm around his waist. Wangerre's face drains of color, but he forces a smile and nods in his prim way, motioning back towards his cabin. Hagebak roars with laughter, picking up the dwarfess and saying, "Oooh aye, we'll make some right lovely little deformed babies, we will." The buxom red headed dwarf throws her arms around his neck, snorting with laughter and revealing her half missing yellowed teeth. Together the unlikely pair stomp off towards the cabins, the blanched Wangerre following in their wake. The agents find themselves alone on the deck of the Breath, given space by the swirling miasma of the rapidly mixing crews. Only the slaves are stationary, sitting exhausted still at their benches in the longboat.
Devram rolls his eyes at the Ulfen Captain's antics. He nudges Penance. "You'd better see he doesn't claim your girl." He glances back at the Aspis slaver. "Come, on. We'll get you a drink."
Shinjuko notes the Ulfen captain's overt rudeness, though makes no mention or fuss of the clear breech of etiquette. His like she has encountered many times in the past. It would not serve their current endeavor any to make a scene over his disrespect, though the realization that future occurrences might likely need to be reprimanded occurs to her. Turning to a nearby sailor not occupied with current duties, Shinjuko smiles and says politely, "Please instruct Kennet and Fergal to fetch my effects and convene on the main deck immediately. Thank you."
As the sailor retreats below decks, the frail samurai-ko rejoins the entourage of Bronze Agents, eyeing the longboat that will be their ferry to the agreed upon landing site. She quietly saunters up to stand beside Penance, the fragrance of lavender wafting up from her alabaster skin as she leans in to inquire as to the half-orc's intentions. "As you have no doubt noted, the ship—impressive though it might be—shall not suffice to transport all that is at our disposal on this first night alone. What thoughts have you on distribution of men and supplies? It occurs to me that we should not risk supply-laden boats on the reef until our oarsmen are comfortable with the passage. Should we then focus on manpower for this first voyage?"
“A wise suggestion, Miss Shinjuko!” Telemakos barges in when the Tian woman speaks up I have no intention to go into those mists with less than a full army at our side… brrr… “More men can secure the shore faster, and defend what cargo the longboat will leave behind when going back to get more supplies.” For once, no worrying about loyalty even when dealing with these… colorful characters. Where would they flee with the bounty?
"Quite," Corridan says simply in agreement to both Shinjuko's and Telemakos' words. "After all, it would hardly matter how well-supplied we are if we do not possess the manpower to defend such supplies against whatever dangers may be waiting for us on the island."
<< | | | >>
Once the Agents work out a plan amongst themselves the remainder of the day passes quickly in a blur of activity. Men and goods flow like living rivers between the two ships as supplies are rearranged and organized. Those of the Agents who are so inclined go through the mercenaries and pick out ten squads of six soldiers each. By the time all the gear and soldiers are securely onboard the Bounty, it is nearly dusk.
Everyone waits tensely as the sun dips below the western horizon. Soon enough the stars emerge. Captain Wangerre sets up his magical sextant on the deck of the Breath, out of the way of the masts and sails. It is indeed a marvel to behold. It consists of a crystal ball perched upon four spindly metal legs. The dull bronze sheen of the material marks it as some kind of alloy, but of which metals is unclear. Wangerre speaks a command word and the ball springs to life. It floats up an inch or so above its bracket, then a thin wall of moving light shoots out from the orb. It scans the sky in a 180 degree half sphere with a few quick passes. The orb settles gently back down into its resting slot. Wangerre moves the sextant to a table, setting it over the star chart. He speaks a second command word and the orb projects thousands of thousands of points of light down onto the chart below. The lights that don't match up with points on the chart show up as red, to make it easier to read. After a couple moments of studying the device the Captain turns to Hagebak and the Agents.
"The portal should be open just a mile or two to the east. Just follow the mists and you can't miss it. Since you won't be needing the rest of the supplies or soldiers on the Naga's Breath for now, we will begin our journey to Casmaron immediately." The Captain seems like he will actually be sad to see the Agents go.
Jaavela and the sailor who was wounded in the hag battle walk over from the side to say goodbye to the Agents. "Thanks again," the sailor says, rubbing the spot where his guts nearly tumbled out forever a few days ago. Jaavela smiles naughtily at Penance, "Yeah, thanks for the rid...I mean, thanks for being so ready with that big sword of yours." She laughs as Penance blushes .
The impatient Hagebak interjects into the sailor's thanks. "Lets sod the f*$@ off before all these ladies realize that me member is an epidemic level vector for disease. Nothin' worse than an angry dwarfess with crabs! Besides we're burnin' non-moon light....err summat..." Realizing that he has no idea what he's talking about Hagebak trails off. Turning to Wangerre, he slaps the stiff backed captain on the shoulder with one large dirty hand. "Nice ter see ya again Cap'n Cockbreath. Meybbe next time we meet you'll have remebered you've got b$*%~!&s." The burn scarred, gap-toothed pirate laughs mightily at his own, not-funny joke. Wangerre's back grows even stiffer and his mustaches quiver with indignation.
"Indeed, as always, a pleasure to see you again Bengt." he replies. Wangerre's hand grips and releases the hilt of his cutlass reflexively as he forces a smile onto his face. "As the good captain so eloquently expressed, time is wasting. Good luck to you Agents. We will meet again!" Wangerre bows to the Agents from the waist, as Hagebak motions them all down the rope ladders onto the Bounty.
Once the Agents are all aboard the longship, Hagebak roars to the crewman and slaves who are manning the oars. "Row! Row ye scurvy dogs, or I'll let this hobgoblin twist flay ye all alive! ROW!" A short and incredibly fat mwangi man sitting cross legged in the stern begins to pound out a fast rhythm on a large hide drum tucked into his lap. The shirtless backs of fifty dirty men and women rise and fall in time, as the Bounty lurches forward, accelerating away from the Naga's Breath. The galleon's crew wave and shout goodbyes as the longship pulls away.
The pirate crew of the Bounty is made up of every human ethnicity on Golarion, and has a fair smattering of the less common races as well. Demi-humans, dwarves, and even an elf spice the stew of diversity. All of them have the hard looks of people who make their living any way they can, laws and morality be damned. Many are scarred or disfigured with the remnants of battle. Inside the oval of rowing people rest the supplies, the mercenaries and the Agents. If the Breath was crowded, this is hellish. The smells of hot pitch, body odor and human waste are strong and present. There is barely enough room to crouch amongst the soldiers, crates, barrels and sacks. Everyone is involuntarily touching at least a few other people with shoulders, elbows or hips. Aside from the beating of the drum, and the grunts of the rowers, the only sounds on the ship are those of the wind and waves. The cool spray splashes over the low sides of the longship occasionally, providing momentary and fleeting relief from the heat and dank. It seems as if everyone is collectively holding their breath, waiting in silence for the unknown that looms before them.
Nearly an hour passes in this purgatory of flexing muscles and hot stench. The towering wall of the Mists flows by the left side of the ship, silent and unchanging, curving away into the distance. Suddenly, it's disappears up ahead. The wall opens up into a huge tunnel, so large it could be called a canyon. Hagebak cries out, "Thar!!" pointing to the gap. He calls out steering instructions and the ship turns hard to port, sweeping into the tunnel. The opening in the Mists is about a hundred yards wide, and stretches at least a mile forward ahead of them, out of sight. The huge towering walls to either side create the effect of rocketing down a river canyon. If the Agents crane their necks to look straight up they can see a black ribbon of sky high above them, spattered with the glittering sprawl of the stars. To either side the walls of fog roil and churn as if being stirred by some great unseen spoon. Occasionally shapes that might be screaming faces or swiping claws seem to form from the vapor, but as soon as the Agents try to look closer, the shapes are gone.
Minutes seep slowly by as the grunting crew propel the longship deeper into the mists. At first it seems interminable, but eventually a narrow thread of black appears in front of the ship. It grows larger as the ship approaches. The whole passage doesn't take more than twenty minutes, though it felt like an eternity. As the Bounty emerges from the tunnel, a startling vista appears before them. The white crests of waves breaking over the dark forms of extensive reefs glitter in the starlight. A brownish green smudge of heavily vegetated coastline studded with the shadowy, hulking forms of hills is silhouetted against the black tapestry of the sky, stretching away to either side as far as the eye can see.
”If we head straight fer the coast, we should be able te pass through the reefs and follow the coast back west to those hills,” Hagebak says to the agents, as the ship continues forward towards the uncharted landmass.
<< | | | >>
The initial passage through the reefs goes smoothly due to the skill of Captain Hagebak and his crew. The fetid coastline of the jungle marsh becomes constant starboard companion as the ship turns west and begins following the coast. Well, it should be west, but for some reason the ship's compass is showing it as south. Three hours pass without incident, the longship gliding relatively quietly along the coast. They pass several small estuaries emptying fresh water into the sea, but for the most part the sewater merges seamlessly into heavily overgrown slat marshes and wetlands. The reefs hug the coast on their port side, leaving only a narrow band where it's safe to sail.
Wind picks up and before long a heavy rain begins falling. Visibility is reduced massively, and the surf becomes angry as a driving wind whips the waves to greater height. Before long lightning is regularly cutting across the dark sky, striking amongst the trees and waves. Despite the tireless rower's best efforts, the ship is forced to move much more slowly through the choppy sea. Everyone is quickly soaked to the bone, and busy with bailing water and trying to keep the ship afloat.
Though there are several close calls, none of the lightning hits the ship itself. Three times the tallest tree on the part of the shore they are passing explodes with a thunderous crack as they are hit by lightning. Despite everyone's best efforts, some of the supplies are ruined by the driving rain and waves splashing over into the ship.
<< | | | >>
Eventually the storm passes, leaving everyone soaked and exhausted. The captain allows the crew a break to eat and drink water before verbally whipping them back to their oars. "C'mon ye whoreson curs, this aint gettin' any easier!"
The crew doggedly gets back to rowing, pushing the ship forward more easily now that the storm is finished. The skirt the coast for a while longer before there is a large splash off the starboard bow. Some sort of massive sea creature crests the waves, it's dark greyish black hide glistens in the starlight as it slaps the waves with its large, flat tail. It blows a spume of water and air out of a hole on the top of its head, as it turns to swim towards the boat. "S@*@e! That don't look friendly!" the Captain yells, as some of the crew cry out. "Hands ta weapons boys and girls!" he commands, grabbing a spear and standing in the prow.
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Initiative:
Initiative:
Party 20
Monster 18
Crew 9
Hagebak 5
"Damnation," Penance breathes as he catches sight of the enormous water-creature. Any possibly pleasant lingering memory of Jaavela's company that have managed to survive the rather hellish passage thus far are swallowed up by the present crisis.
Struggling to have room to move freely, Penance snatches his bow up from its lashing to his pack. Arrow nocked, and loosed!
Telemakos is miserable. He is small, and because of this he gets squeezed even more by the larger members of the crew. For a few minutes he tried having Arasmes pick him up above the mass of people, but everyone ended up complaining about the large frame of the genie, and the end result wasn’t much better.
Enduring the storm, along with the uncomfortableness and the wretched smell of piled up bodies, has given the gnome a splitting headache and foul mood. At least he managed to get a few square feet of space between Emerion and Corridan – two of the finely dressed Agents. No more brushing against Iliante’s cold skin or Penance’s armor.
When the captain screams his warning Telemakos awakens from his dozing off “What? Where? Weapons? What…” he sees everyone else moving and trying to watch over starboard. “What is there? Are we under attack? It’s not another dragon is it?” his questions are so annoying that one of the crew lifts him up by the armpits, making the gnome able to see the creature.
“Oh, not to worry folks!” he says, a bit more chipper “That is just a Parietobalaena dentata, more commonly called a zeuglodon! It is really a fascinating creature, believed to have followed an evolutionary path akin to the saurian beasts found in Mwangi. Quite interestingly, it…” he would go on with his lecture, but the crew member puts him down and grabs a spear, and everyone is moving to attack “Ehrr, yes, anyway. It does not possess supernatural abilities, its main dangerous features are its size and large, toothy mouth!” he stops for a moment as a few pirates stare at him condescendingly, probably thinking “oh, you don’t say?”.
“Yes, yes, of course you could figure that out yourselves! Well, it looks hungry, so off to the fight lads!” he concludes, ignoring the fact he was the one chatting while everyone else was busy preparing for the battle.
Telemakos tries to get close to the starboard banister “Let’s try to keep that thing focused on what’s going on in the water, yes!” even if doesn’t manage to hurt the whale, maybe this beast will get eaten and satiate its hunger… Telemakos pronounces two arcane words, and a magical gate, perfectly hexagonal and shining with a silvery hue, opens in the water: out of it swishes a human-sized cephalopod, pearly white in color, swimming with precise and gracious moves of its tentacles towards the zeuglodon, attacking the larger beast.
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Iliante stayed out of the way of the cargo and mercenary transfer. He still didn't feel completely invested in this Aspis project yet. Monitoring the Alkenstar share of the partnership was more his mission, so he paid most attention to the black powder and firearms components.
The longship trip did not seem to bother him as much as the other agents. He had been in worse situations and knew it was temporary. Cramped as he was, it was better than swimming alone in uncharted waters.
Round 1
After the captain commands to ready the fight, Iliante stands up and brings his loaded crossbow which sat in his lap. He places his footing on the rocking ship and demands, "make a hole!" The crew understands this common command from archers and ducks out of the way. Iliante feels the breeze on his fins and lets out a controlled breath before firing.
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Devram nods at the gnome's assessment of the sea creature. "So no surprises. Just kill it before it kills us." He lifts his crossbow and fires.
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Emerion uses his force of will, in conjunction with his cleaning spell, to keep from losing his temper and killing enough people to get a little personal space. That would also be bad for business he reminded himself. If the tight quarters and bad weather were not enough, a sea beast appeared to feed on them. Very much in need of a release to his frustrations he focuses on the creature.
"Move."
The only warning he gives before he starts chanting as he opens one hand palm up while using the other to work through the gestures of the spell. It begins as a tiny whirling speck of white above his open palm but quickly sucks in the air and moisture around it, growing fast whiling giving off a unseasonable chill. The result a magically created snowball that flings itself seemingly of it's own accord at the attacking monster.
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Kahnjar roared tearing his revolver from his holster. Amid the rocking of the ship and the cowering of the slaves the hobgoblin stood firm. Behind him he watched as crates scattered to the deck. Eyes settling on a braying mule that was to go ashore Kahnjar grinned. Leveling the revolver Kahnjar shot the beast in the side. Rearing in pain, Kahnjar kicked the beast overboard. Hopefully the blood in the water would distract the monster.
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Remaining where she stands, Shinjuko exhales calmly as she peers out over the waters to track the enormous creature's movements. Her hand flits to the grip of her tachi, though she is forced to concede to its very limited purpose in the immediate. She waits patiently as those with farther reaching means employ them, eager for an opportunity to free blade from sheath.
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"Damnation," Penance breathes as he catches sight of the enormous water-creature. Any possibly pleasant lingering memory of Jaavela's company that have managed to survive the rather hellish passage thus far are swallowed up by the present crisis.
Struggling to have room to move freely, Penance snatches his bow up from its lashing to his pack. He knocks an arrow and looses it. The arrow streaks through the night to ricochet harmlessly off the creature's hide.
When the captain screams his warning Telemakos awakens from his dozing off “What? Where? Weapons? What…” he sees everyone else moving and trying to watch over starboard. “What is there? Are we under attack? It’s not another dragon is it?” his questions are so annoying that one of the crew lifts him up by the armpits, making the gnome able to see the creature.
“Oh, not to worry folks!” he says, a bit more chipper “That is just a Parietobalaena dentata, more commonly called a zeuglodon! It is really a fascinating creature, believed to have followed an evolutionary path akin to the saurian beasts found in Mwangi. Quite interestingly, it…” he would go on with his lecture, but the crew member puts him down and grabs a spear, and everyone is moving to attack “Ehrr, yes, anyway. It does not possess supernatural abilities, its main dangerous features are its size and large, toothy mouth!” he stops for a moment as a few pirates stare at him condescendingly, probably thinking “oh, you don’t say?”.
“Yes, yes, of course you could figure that out yourselves! Well, it looks hungry, so off to the fight lads!” he concludes, ignoring the fact he was the one chatting while everyone else was busy preparing for the battle.
Telemakos tries to get close to the starboard banister “Let’s try to keep that thing focused on what’s going on in the water, yes!?"
Even if doesn’t manage to hurt the whale, maybe this beast will get eaten and satiate its hunger… Telemakos pronounces two arcane words, and a magical gate, perfectly hexagonal and shining with a silvery hue, opens in the water: out of it swishes a human-sized cephalopod, pearly white in color, swimming with precise and gracious moves of its tentacles towards the zeuglodon, attacking the larger beast. The squid's tentacles slide harmlessly across the thing's steely hide as it struggles to do any damage.
After the captain commands to ready the fight, Iliante stands up and brings his loaded crossbow which sat in his lap. He places his footing on the rocking ship and demands, "Make a hole!" The crew understands this common command from archers and ducks out of the way. Iliante feels the breeze on his fins and lets out a controlled breath before firing. Iliante's bolt streaks towards the prehistoric whale, striking it in the sot flesh just below its right eye as it turns to bite at the squid harrying its flank. It lets off a deep bass bellow that rumbles up through the water as the bolt pierces its face.
Devram nods at the gnome's assessment of the sea creature. "So no surprises. Just kill it before it kills us." He lifts his crossbow and fires. The rocking boat botches his aim, and his bolt flies harmlessly into the water near the squid.
Emerion uses his force of will, in conjunction with his cleaning spell, to keep from losing his temper and killing enough people to get a little personal space. That would also be bad for business he reminded himself. If the tight quarters and bad weather were not enough, a sea beast appeared to feed on them. Very much in need of a release to his frustrations he focuses on the creature.
"Move," is the only warning he gives before he starts chanting. He opens one hand palm up, while using the other to work through the gestures of the spell. It begins as a tiny whirling speck of white above his open palm but quickly sucks in the air and moisture around it, growing fast whiling giving off a unseasonable chill. The result a magically created snowball that flings itself seemingly of it's own accord at the attacking monster.
The snowball strikes the creature dead on, exploding over it in a burst of ice. The zeuglodon tries to rear back but is caught up as a large chunk of ocean water flash freezes over half its head. It bellows again, thrashing the waves into a froth while trying to escape the ice.
"Bloody Fething Hells!" Kahnjar roars tearing his revolver from his holster. Amid the rocking of the ship and the cowering of the slaves the hobgoblin stands firm. Behind him he watches as crates scatter to the deck. His eyes settle on a screaming pig that was to go ashore, Kahnjar grins. Leveling his revolver, Kahnjar shoots the beast in the side. As it squeals in pain, Kahnjar kicks the beast overboard. Hopefully the blood in the water will distract the monster.
Remaining where she stands, Shinjuko exhales calmly as she peers out over the waters to track the enormous creature's movements. Her hand flits to the grip of her tachi, though she is forced to concede to its very limited purpose in the immediate. She waits patiently as those with farther reaching means employ them, eager for an opportunity to free blade from sheath.
The zeuglondon whips its head free of the rest of the ice, and lashes around with its mouth to grab the squid which is harassing it. The watery behemoth crushes the squid with a single chomp, and then whips its head furiously before flinging the man sized cephalopod in a high arc through the air. The squids corpse splashes down nearly thirty feet away before it disappears, returning to it's native plane.
"Attack, and then get us the f~%+ out of here!" Hagebak commands the crew. The sailors are surprisingly well coordinated, it seems they've done this before. First the starboard side throw their spears, and then they duck back down and grab their oars while the port side stand up to throw theirs. The end effect is a hail of missiles flying through the air towards the sea monster. The ship continues to drift forward under its own momentum.
Most of the spears either miss or glance off the zeuglodon, but when it's thrashing and roaring subside, six shafts remain embedded deeply in the beast, sprouting from its back like some haphazadly arranged row of spines. Despite the creature's brutish intelligence, it is clearly enraged and orients itself to charge the ship momentarily.
Hagebak whoops in glee, "Yaharr! Take that ye great sodding turd!" He grabs his own harpoon, clearly of masterful, even magical craftsmanship. He takes careful aim before releasing the projectile. Just as he's throwing a huge wave impacts the prow, bucking the ship and nearly tossing him overboard. The spear flies harmlessly into the deep, but a moment later it reappears in his hand. The captain begins letting off a steady stream of curses that shows signs of stopping only for sporadic inhalation.
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Seeing that his first arrow found the bulk of the beast but bounced right off again, Penance swears something very colorful and violent in Orcish, then looks up at the night sky. Hunting for Abadar's stars, the constellation called the Key...
"A little help here?" he whispers.
~Acknowledge whom you serve.
"...ah, c'mon, really? Now?"
The god, or at least what Penance takes to be the voice of his god, is silent. Hells. Alright.
"In Abadar's gold-plated name, get your scaley hide back to the depths you swam up from!" Penance bellows across the choppy waters, and looses another arrow.
A little more wide-eyed than usual, but rather expected considering the behemoth they find themselves facing, Corridan grabs a spear and immediately throws it at the massive creature. As the spear lands harmlessly in the water, the tailor's only reaction is a shrug. "I suppose it was worth a try," he quips.
Devram stares at the beast as it takes several spears to the side and turns towards them. "Row! Captain, get them rowing!"
The Aldori levels his crossbow and fires again.
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Round 2
As the larboard side throws their spears, Iliante reloads his crossbow with practiced ease. When the starboard side throws, he levels his crossbow and takes a breath. When the starboard sides sits and clears his line of fire, he slowly exhales and releases another bolt toward the creature.
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