Feeling rather sorry for both Emilia and Starse, Phaedra follows them back out of the shop as she wonders what they think of what the old wizard revealed to them.
Nodding in agreement with Starse's comment to pack it in for the night, Phaedra comments: "I agree to call it a night and head back to the ship. I would rather not be wandering around this city after dark, I feel uneasy enough doing so in broad daylight. We passed enough food stalls that we should be able to get enough to make a decent dinner for tonight and then turn in early and be back in town when the sun comes up to finish our business." Hopefully Lord Starse will fail to find anything alcoholic on the way back. I'd rather not have to help fish him out of the sea again.
The Humid summer air cools considerably as the sun sets, although Riddleport does anything but quiet down.
Lamplighters make their way along the streets, lighting lamps that reek of a sickly sweet smell and cast off an orange yellow glow. The markets themselves are still alive and thriving with vendors shouting, crowds bustling and the entire thing beating as if it were a heartbeat.
On their way back, the would-be crew of the Laughing Rogue manages to find everything they could hope for to get them through the night. A Tian woman stands over a steel drum with flames roaring from it, roasting skewers of chicken marinated with some unknown blend of spices and oils that smells absolutely divine, and by the time he's done haggling over them Eaton's walked away with over a dozen of them wrapped up with waxed parchment. The next stopover nets the group a basket of potatoes sliced paper thin and fried in grease and then salted. A third stop picks up a loaf of crusty bread from the baker - for only a copper because it was the end of the day! - and some carrots.
To Eaton's delight - and Pheadra's disappointment - finding Alcohol wasn't just possible, it was child's play. Taverns spring from every street and corner, alongside liquor stores and stalls selling more exotic fare.
Eaton manages to barter his way to owning not one but two bottles of a strong brand of Brevic Whiskey, as well as a case of Ale that will be delivered to their ship.
So it is with the last of the sun's rays just nudging their way over the horizon that they return to the Laughing Rogue, timing it well to coincide with the food, clothing and supplies they arranged earlier (And the ale).
"Alright, haul them up, I'll send Donnell and Sin to help you all and then ome help to," Emilia comments as she's the first to ascend the ship's plank, before stopping short.
Tellar, Sinders and Donnell sit casually around the ship's main mast, as if they were just enjoying each others company. Tied up to the main mast is a ratty looking human man dressed in (very worn, ripped and seemingly frozen) leather armor, his head slumped over, his chest slowing rising and falling. Unconscious to the world,
"Who in the nine hells is that!?" Emilia asks,
Tellar glances up as the others return to the ship. At Emilia's question Tellar simply shrugs. We had ourselves a bit of a rat problem this afternoon ma'am. Nothing Sin here couldn't handle though.
Tellar levers himself up to help with getting the supplies stowed on the ship, although he stops before Emilia with a nod. To be blunt cap'n. Rats are always a problem on ships but when it's were-rats it's usually something worse. I say get what info you can from him and then keel-haul him to get what he leaves out. Spitting at the bound man, Tellar moves to help load the goods. Filthy creatures.
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"Aww Tellar... Don't be mean. He's my new boyfriend Cap'n!" Sin grins behind his mask, tilting the unconscious mans head back with one hand, while using the other to work the rats jaw, so as to make him appear to be talking.
"Ello Ma'am! I'm here to take Sinder out on a date!" Sin laughed softly, dropping the mans head back to his chest, before drawing back and slapping him full force in the face.
He stands and moves after Tellar. "If he moves I will gut him. Be damned with the info!" Sin grabs some of the goods, helping to drag everything to the hold.
Once every thing has been moved onto the ship, Edgar meets the others as they deal with the rat.
"We need to know why he was here snooping around." Edgar says eying the Ratman.
With everyone working together, the supplies are loaded up to the ship and then down into the main hold in short order.
The sun has finished her path below the horizon and the moon has climbed into the sky, casting a silver glow on the waters, one that's seemingly at war with the dancing hues of reds, oranges, yellows and purples cast from the lights of Riddleport.
Emilia emerges from her cabin, dressed now in a white tunic, dark blue vest with trousers that matched and high cut black leather boots. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and a cutlass hangs easily sheathed at her side. Gone is the meek and scared little girl, she walks with a confidence fitting someone in her station - though only she could say if it were more than an act.
Standing over the captive she nods, and a bucket of harbor water is tossed in the man's face, waking him with sputtering coughs.
"Why were you on my ship?" Emilia demands,
"She ain't your ship, missy." he retorts with a sneer. "And I ain't telling you squawk."
Edgar leans towards the Rat's face.
"You know the drill, RAT. I don't like pussyfooting around. You can tell us now, or your can tell us later in a considerable amount of pain and with missing limbs. Your call."
Intimidate
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Sin leans in over Edgars shoulder, his eyes twinkling with mirth above his mask. "I am going to enjoy cutting your toes off one by one while you squeal. To hell with it... Lets start now!" Sin pulls a dagger from his belt and crouches, beginning to cut off the mans boot, smiling while he does.
"This will be fun. I will have so much to do. Once I get your boot off I need to fetch three more knives, coz they get dull you know? Then I will have to get the brazier so I can heat up a bar to seal your wounds with. You have the most impotant jobs though. You have to stay conscious and not die. Can you do it?" He laughed softly and pulled the ruined boot from the mans foot.
"It will be hard but I bet you can do it. Well... That is till I start cutting..." He trailed off, as he ran the blade softly up the mans leg, stopping at his inner thigh."Here! Then I expect you will pass out and try and die on me. But we wont let that happen. By the gods no!" He laughed loudly, tilting his head back in genuine mirth. "We will heal you up and I'll start again!" He nodded.
"So don't talk. Not a word. I can not wait!"
Sin placed one finger over his lips, indicating the man to be silent, and winked!
The ruddy looking man's eyes dart from one man to the other, his stern mask of indignation gives way to trepidation, and then outright terror as Sin's dagger traces along his skin.
Kicking away futilely he groans, "Please don't! You don't know what'll happen. If word got back to Cromarcky that I..." his words stop and there's a stoppered gasping sound from his throat, like something's stuck in his air pipe. His eyes bulge and he looks to Sin and Emilia and the others with pleading eyes, pulling against the ropes binding him, squirming and flailing about as blood rushes to his head, making his skin go pink.
And then his head arches up with whipping speed, spinning to the side, a fountain of blood spurts from his mouth as his skull contorts, eliciting a harsh cracking sound from the back of the wererat's neck. His spine snapped, he dies instantly.
"gods damn it..." Emilia mutters, her eyes never even leaving the body. Her shoulders slump down, "Throw him overboard. clean up the mess." Looking away from the captive to her ragtag crew she says, "When the sun rises, Get whatever supplies you still need and we'll find us a crew. I want us out of this hell hole and bearing down on Eredin before the week's out."
She turns and stalks away to the captain's quarters.
Rather surprised to find a captive ratman aboard the ship upon her groups return, Phaedra decides to leave the questioning of the disgusting creature to the others as she goes below deck to change into her new outfit of a white blouse with dark green vest and trousers with dark brown leather boots that lace up to her knees. Feeling better finally clad in cloths that fit again, she then goes to see about setting up the goods they bought in the galley and storeroom.
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"No don..." Sins head slips to his chest and he sighs loudly. "It isn't fair..." He crouches down and cuts the rat man free, before starting to rifle around in his pockets.
Pulling everything out of the mans pockets, Sin tosses him over a shoulder, before walking to the edge of the boat and tossing him over the side. "I never get to take anyone toes..." Sin sighed, moving back to stare at what he had found on the rat.
the thief's body is looted, though nothing or true value is found, and his corpse cast over the side of the boat. In reality it's a little disconcerting and just how little attention tossing a body into the harbor warrants you (None) but such is life in Riddleport.
The first night in the harbor is a somber one. You meet in the galley for a dinner eaten in relative silence. The rest of the crew are filled in on the events and revelations of the day from the others; of Emilia's brother, the man who works for Eaton's father, and this secret society known as The Kraken. Still it's early in the night when Emilia excuses herself to bed.
Before she departs though, she turns to the group again, "Edgar, I'm making you my First Mate. You will accompany me to find a crew tomorrow evening. You as well Eaton, I need your gift with words. Goodnight everyone."
The Sun breaks on the eastern waters early the next day, and after a meal mostly of fruits (May as well eat it before it goes bad. And oranges are good for the body) The party splits to go about their individual business, equipping themselves and supplying whatever else they personally require.
At sundown; Emilia meets with Eaton and Edgar (and anyone else who wishes) and the group makes their way to one of the recommended taverns.
Emilia chooses a tale prominent in the bar, Eaton takes his place at her right shoulder and Eaton begins to spin the magic that is his rhetoric. It doesn't take long for a line to form leading to Emilia's table, filled with would-be sailors eager to sign on to crew her ship. At the dark hours of the night you return to the Laughing Rogue, crack open a bottle of brandy and pass it amongst each other under the stars, swapping tales, jokes, and simply enjoying each other's company.
And so the routine goes for the next few days, with daylight given to personal ventures and the evening hours to another tavern or public house, canvasing for good hardy men and women to set off on a voyage of uncertainty. Every night the three pour over their prospective applicants, picking only those they feel certain that can trust at least to some moderate degree.
The lull also gives the first expanse of time which can be dedicated to personal betterment. Spells are practiced and analyzed, routines with sword and dagger are repeated again and again until the muscle memory is reflex. And Donnell, Tellar and Edgar even manage to teach the others the basics of shipmanship, ensuring their value to the crew in more mundane situations.
The day has arrived. Edgar stands on the ship's aftcastle while the new members of the Laughing Rogue's crew arrive steadily, streaming up from the docks. Tellar acts as taskmaster, directing men, and a couple of women, to their tasks and setting down the law on what is and is not acceptable on this ship. Bunks are given out (hammocks really) and what was once the Passenger cabin - really just a smaller version of the crew cabin located and the port aft of the ship, is given to the female crew and placed in Phaedra's jurisdiction.
If all continues as it is, the Rogue will be ready to depart in the hour.
The young lord Starse has whiskey in his hand before he's even at the end of the docks, drinking from the bottle and for the moment seeming utterly unaffected by the booze. By the time they're shipboard, he's subdued, more quiet, his nose a bit red at the end, his cheeks with a faint blush, and when he speaks, his words are just a touch slurred.
Eaton stands aside with the threats of torture. -Wow- Sin is good at that! Eaton would have come up with a threat on what to do with the wererat involving some kind of silver, but ... -Wow- Sin can be scary! Like -way- scary! Eaton mutters softly aside at Tellar, his complaint about the brutality of keel-hauling dead in his throat "I'm glad he's on our side."
Flush with fresh food, booze, and clean clothes, the inventor-slash-adventurer-slash-merchant baronette stumbles his way to the captains cabin.. and remembers only shortly before bursting through the door that he doesn't get to sleep in that bed... and then weaves his way down to the hold to pass out in his bunk.
Up bright and early, the man is drinking water by the glass-full, the shimmering light of dawn dancing across the waves causing him to cover his face with both hands when not actively drinking. Still, by the time breakfast is over, his mouth is moving again, and he's speaking rapidly, making plans and getting permission to take a chunk of the hold over for his use. Since they'll be on the open water quite a lot, he swears he can use the time to turn raw iron into -real money-. Once they get to Absalom he should be able to requisition a significant cargo-load of rarified steel, and that he can turn into gold in the form of masterwork breastplates, swords, daggers...
If Amelia gives him license to set up the forge (and the extra barrels of water to observe fire safety), part of the starting money will go to the four -hundred- gold required to set up a full and functioning forge aboardshp. He looks for men with craft skills to work carpentry and maintaining the sails, he looks for a man or two who can help him with general work in the forge (cutting down on the -time- it takes him to create anything), and he looks for men who strike him as trustworthy, above all else. By the time they have a crew of assembled sailors from Riddleport's docks and taverns, he hopes his hopes are high!
The 18th of Sarenith dawns and he settles up on the dock itself to help manage the loading of the last supplies and the crews equipment. Once the majority of the stock is onboard, he'll head down into the lightless hold, borrowing a light spell from Tellar or Phaedra, to help guide the crewmen around down there, and make certain everything is packed, stowed, and secured for proper ballast.
Emilia's answer to Eaton is a simple but firm one, "I need all of my crew, including you, working to get us to Magnimar. We need to catch my brother before they break for Absalom. Once the matter is settled, we can decide what to do with the ship."
The Laughing Rogue leaves Riddleport early in the morning on the 18th of Sarenith, with Donnell at her helm and Emilia standing beside him. Edgar stands further back at a table with an old map pinned to it, a compass and sextant beside him.
As hard as the voyage to Riddleport was, this one is just as taxing. The crew works on shifts of three. One starting at sunrise, the second in the mid afternoon and the third taking over a couple of hours before midnight. The result is that The Laughing Rogue never sleeps, and she glides through the waters like a bolt of lightning across the sky.
The voyage itself is largely uneventful, save for an unseasonably cold wind that blew in on the third day. The new crew works well together so far, in part for their experience and in part from the leadership and men like Tellar, Eaton and Edgar. Even Emilia seems to be coming into her own as a leader, seeking advice from the more experienced of her companions, but brooking no insubordination from her new men. A point that was made infinitely clear when one man made a rather lewd pass at her and Phaedra and their second day away from Riddleport. Emilia ordered the ship to close in on the shoreline... and then had the man cast overboard.
Near the end of their sixth day at sea, the Sky clouded over and a heavy rain came down, soaking the deck and every bone of the crew. Those not on shift spent their time huddled around lanterns trying to stay warm and dry.
But on the morning of the seventh day, they say her.
Off their prow, the coastline of Magnimar's harbor could barely be seen against the misty sky, but before the horizon was a second ship, making its way to Magnimar. Clinging to the main sail's mast, a spyglass pressed to his eye, Sinders shouts down, "It's the North Star!"
"Full sails!" Emilia calls out, "Mr. Donnell take us to the wind, I want us on that ship before she makes the harbor!"
As the Rogue ebbs her way towards the Star, a streak of light flies up from the Star's deck, pulsing red.
Looking up into the sky at the pulsing flash of red, Eaton points out the shimmering light and makes ignorant assumption "Heh... combat on the deck. Someone missed with a Flare spell. My guess is a gnome or a halfling trying to blind one of the regular-sized races, or a spellcaster laying on his back trying desperately to defend himself?"
The young lordling straps on his weapon belt, tightening it over his supple chain-link shirt, the half-draped device and it's hardened leather braces sitting very well over his shirt-ties, the few fittings and modifications he needed to feel comfortable in the shirt long ago accomplished and leaving him snug and perfectly fitted in the tailor-finished links.
"Master Priest! Do you have your favored winds ready for us today!?" With Tellar on board, the ship has endless fresh water, which makes for a tremendously valuable crew-member. Every ship on the sea should have a cleric or oracle capable of touching wind and waves.
Phaedra leans against the ship's railing, peering off into the distance, trying to see the North Star. "More likely a sign to someone on the coast. Maybe they are announcing their presence to someone or trying to signal trouble. I don't see any other ships threatening it, can anyone see if the Star is in any kind of distress?"
Profession (Sailor)
Perception
"It is a SOS. They are signaling to the port. Magnimar will likely send them assistance. If we strike it will have to be swift, and we will have to be gone before reinforcements arrive. We don't have to man power to deal with more ships. Emi- Captain, if your brother is on board as we expect, am I correct in assuming that you want him brought to you alive? "
Emilia nods slowly to Phaedra's question, "Aye Edgar's got the right of it. We're the ship threatening the North Star. She's well known to Magnimar, while We're an unknown ship flying no colors. But no," he looks to Edgar, "We will not run. Eredin's a traitor and I will not have him soil my family's name any longer. If at all possible we will take him alive yes. But only so that he may face a trial and the hangman's noose."
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Ignoreing the flare, Sin moves towards the mast, where his gear lies. Grabbing the pure white mask he had aquired in the town, he slipped it over his face, before sliding the wakizashi in to its sheet. Cinching his armor tighter, he grabs his crossbow from where it lay, strapping on a quiver of bolts to his belt, before moving back to the ships rail.
"Well... If we are short for time, best we close then. If we over power the crew, capture Eridin, loot the ship and scuttle it before we get caught, all the better!" Sin cocks the crossbow and fits a bolt, before giving his gear a quick once over again, making sure his shuriken and knives are secure.
"Lets go be bad guys!"
"The -last- thing we want to do is scuttle the ship. The North Star has some secret about it we're trying to capture, Sin. No fire, no termites, no flaming termites. We need the vessel intact."
The young lord thinks fast, looking back and forth between their crew and the other vessel... "Emelia, I can see three possible flags we can fly. I can hoist the white flag and call for parley, we can try to whip up and fly a House Starse flag, and see if they recognize it, since my family does business with Magnimar and at least five men on those two ships are likely to be carrying -something- made of Starse Iron... or we can fly the yellow-and-black. Tell them it's a plague-ship. Might scare them off."
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Sin shrugs and turns to Eaton, his face hidden behind the white mask. "Well if my calculations are right Eaton the only thing we CAN do is scuttle the ship. We have a crew, just one. We can not hope to crew two ships to safety, with these numbers, I think. So we either leave it afloat or scuttle it... I do not mind either way but..." Sin shrugs again, turning back.
"Flaming termites?" Shaking her head a bit, Phaedra turns to look at Emilia. "Why bother at all with a flag at this point? Those on the North Star are likely to recognize this vessel anyway, even without a flag. We should just try to get this whole mess done with as quickly as possible before any ships from Magnimar can reach us. And for afterwards, just leave the ship floating. It would waste too much time to scuttle it, plus the ships coming may waste their time checking the Star for survivors or loot while we make our escape."
Having said her piece, Phaedra then checks over her new crossbow, making sure she has it already loaded and ready to fire. I hope I can manage to actually hit something with this thing. I fear I don't really have any experience at fighting." Her brow furrows in worry as she turns her attention again to the North Star.
Tellar moves slowly to the rail, watching as the North Star gets steadily closer. Checking the weapon at his bealt he glanced around at the eager faces of his companions before turning back to watch the Star grimly. The sea claims us all in our time.
Edgar starts to speak as he starts to strap his knives to himself.
"There is another possibility, and I think it's the one we need to take. We raid and take the Northstar, and abandon the Laughing Rogue. We cannot let the 'Kraken' keep hold of the North Star and the secret it posseses. Once we secure the Northstar, we will need to grab as much of our food supplies as quickly as we can. Here is what I think we should do. We divide into groups. Donell, you lead our men and try to take control of the ship, take the wheel so that we can secure our retreat. Emilia, Me, Sin, Eaton, Phaedra, and Tellar, we go straight for Eredin. Sin, you and I will surround him and take him off guard. Eaton and Emilia, you keep his men off of us and support us. Phaedra and Tellar, you two use your magic to assist us. Hell, maybe you can knock him out with that slumber spell you like to use. Anyway, once Eredin has fallen, moral will be down and taking the ship should be easier. Then we take sail and get the hell out of here before reinforcements arrive. Teller, would you be able to lead us in a quick prayer to Gozreh, we could use every advantage we can get... "
Perception
"I don't care what we need to do." Emilia's voice rings out over the crashing of the waves against the ship's hull, "We are not going to scuttle my father's ship."
He eyes burn with passionate fire as she grips the rail of the sterncastle, "We are not pirates or thieves and we will not slink off with our tails between our legs! We're going to beat my wretch of a brother and drop him on the Magistrate's doorstep with a gods damned bow!"
Spinning on her heel, Emilia looks to the ship's wheel as the wind sends her hair whipping behind her, "Mr. Donnell, time to show your worth." she snaps back around, looking to Eaton first, "If you can magic up a flag then by all means hoist it, otherwise Mr. Starse, to your post."
Her body nearly vibrates with excitement, leaning in towards her lost ship on the waters, and a smile plays off her face that even in all the excitement, makes Edgar's heart flutter.
"Aye Aye Captain!" Donnell calls out behind her and wrenches hard of the wheel, cutting the ship into the waves, sluicing the waters as the ship's sails billow with new found winds.
The chase across the waters was a harrowing one, with crewmen working the lines to keep the sails full as Donnell expertly guided the craft, in and out, never letting a scrap of speed off and little by little the two ships converged.
Close enough now to see the usurpent crew of of The North Star, a crew working just as hard at keeping their ship away from The Laughing Rogue, but sadly for them, Donnell was the better pilot.
One of the pirate's keeps himself perched on the North Star's mast rigging, a longbow in his hands, he sends a few arrows back towards the Rogue, but each fires wide into the waters.
And there on the deck, is Eredin. Dressed in an open faced tunic of black leather, his chest free to the breeze, his arms armored to the shoulders, his raven black hair tossed back and forth by the sea swept breeze. Even from the distance you can see the elder Valdemar's cocksure smile as he draws his longsword, - it's blade pitch black.
Drawing her own saber from its scabbard, Emilia yells out "Prepare to board!"
::If -only- I had thought to prepare an Arcane Mark today! Damnit, this will have to do...:: Eaton thinks as he races towards the hold, tapping one of the sailors on the way. Mr. Reed, you're with me!" How could they -not- have already had a flag flying? What were they -thinking-?
Sending the sailor to grab the white flag from the chest, Eaton goes down to his bunk where his new lacquers are kept. The red one will make the greatest contrast, and is the right color anyway, so he grabs that and the widest brush in his arsenal, hurrying up to meet Reed halfway. He doesn't even both securing his gear again, the sea-chest left open as he races up.
Slapping the flag down he begins marking on it carefully, the red lacquer gripped in his left hand, one knee on a corner of the cloth, with Reed to help him hold it down, the first wide mark of the House Starse iron-mark put onto the flag as he runs out of time and the ships come into contact with one another. Twenty four seconds just isn't very long.
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Sin sighs softly, before turning to a group of sailors grabbing scimitars. "ALL RIGHT BOYS YOU ARE WITH ME! OVER THE EDGE AND IN TO THE THICK OF IT!"
Drawing his blade, Sin takes a few steps back, before darting forward and throwing himself over the ships rail.
Landing lightly on the deck, Sin rolls to his feet. "STAND DOWN YOU LOWLY SCUM, THIS IS OUR SHIP NOW!"
Perception
Acrobatics
Ready at the side of the Laughing Rogue, Edgar moves at the same time as Sin, tumbling over the rail of the two ships as if he had raided ships hundreds of times before. The North Star, It's good to be home... Once on the other side he finishes his move action making his way towards Eredin while trying to avoid the Northstar's crew.
If Eredin is within 30 ft or closer, Edgar tries to catch him off guard and flings a knife at him. Otherwise Edgar draws his cutlass and moves again, trying to get to Eredin as quickly as possible.
If Edgar is forced into a confrontation before he is able to throw the dagger or double move, he draws his weapon and tries to fight his way trough.
Ranged: |Damage |Crit:19/x2
Sneak Attack
Sneak Attack
With the few rounds he has as the ship gets closer, Edgar would sling a few bullets at Eredin if possible or at the very least at the crew.
Ranged: Sling |Damage |Crit:x2
Sneak Attack
Ranged: Sling |Damage |Crit:x2
Sneak Attack
Ranged: Sling |Damage |Crit:x2
Possible Crit |Damage
Sneak Attack
Ranged: Sling |Damage |Crit:x2
Sneak Attack
Worried about the archer in the rigging, Phaedra aims her crossbow up at him and fires. Hopefully I can at least knock him from his perch up there.
Tellar gathers Sin and Edgar to him as the ships close towards each other. Laying a hand on each man, a warm light suffices them and when he pulls away, Sin and Edgar can both hear the sounds of a calm wave slowly washing over a beach. A warm breeze seems to stir their hair. May you ride out the impending storm in safety.
As the ships pull together Tellar checks his weapon one last time before climbing up on to the rail. His leg twinged briefly but he settled himself and prepared to jump.
With a thump he landed on the Star's deck and wasted no time drawing his morningstar and laying about him.
Eaton slaps the paint down into a symbol very much like the one used to cut into the tang on the iron of all his family's weapons. In violent scarlet, it even looks like the part used on the modified Taldoran flag that his family actually flies on their merchant fleet. The greedy white flag sucks up the moisture quickly, and he curses as he has to dip into the expensive lacquer again and again, but at least the thing will work for now. He is going to -have- to Arcane Mark them up a proper one tomorrow.
"Fly this with all haste, Mister Reed, I need to get into the fray... now!"
Round 1: Init 8
Standard: Cast Spell; Move: Up to the railing and back a bit
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Eaton closes his hand on the air, gripping hold of nothing and incanting the words to his magic spell. See, Eaton has been -practicing-. Lightning plays in Lord Starse's hand, and travels up his arm, and over his chest, and over the other arm, until the definition of his body is crackling in blue skyfire. A sharp jerk of his hand tears the lightning away, and it pulses and throbs, crackling beside him, a shield of shimmering lightning. Drawing his blade he moves to the edge of the deck, hesitating a moment at the sight of the roiling water churning -between- the two ships...
"Whoa... fall down there and die alot..." He backs up as far as his movement will allow, ready to -hurl- himself over the gap next time. Should make it easier than trying to make a standing jump.
Phaedra's arrow pierces the archer's bicep, blood spurting from the wound, he loses his grip on the Star's rigging and tumbles into the air, plummeting to slam into the deck below with a sickening snap.
Eaton comes up from the hold, just in time to see a good chunk of the crew, being led by Sin, Edgar and Tellar, leaping and swinging across the gap to land deftly on the deck of the North Star.
Sin's cries for surrender are ignored as Eredin's crew surges towards you, even as their own newly minted crew dives in and steel clashes against steel.
Tellar's mace smashes into one of the attacking pirates, flooring him in one shot as Edgar spins on his heel towards the Sterncastle and launches his dagger spinning for Eredin - standing on the staircase.
a black flash, and Edgar's dagger is knocked harmlessly aside. Grinning like a cheshire cat, Eredin holds a wicked looking longsword with a blade as black as obsidian, "Well, well well... Seems my sister's more resourceful than I gave her credit."
The black sword's blade begins to smoke in his hand, trailing whisps of darkness, and Eredin's hands run along is surface his lips tracing through an incantation.
As the three square off with Eredin fifteen feet away, a second voice cries out above the chaos behind them.
"This isn't the task Valdemar. Kill them and be done with it."
Emerging from the stairs to the main hold of the Star is a warrior, garbed full plate of black ash with a blood red cloak hanging from his shoulders, a sturdy shield of metal on his arm and a vicious looking axe in his arm.
The "knight" grins, a smile of wicked pleasure on his craggy face, "Caustic." At the word, his axe blade shines and glistens with a greenish ooze that pops and hisses against the air.
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Sin moves through the press of bodies, twisting this way and that between the men and women locked in combat. He ignores the combat around him, slipping around to the back of Eredin, flanking him.
"Was told to take you alive but... That is not up to me sadly, that is up to you. Push my hand and I'll slit you from ear to ear!"
Seeing that his words have no effect, Sin lashes out, driving the blade towards Eredins chest, trying to incapacitate him.
Edgar charges up the stairs, engaging Eredin with his cutlass. "How could you do this to Emilia and Fredrick? For gods sakes man, they were your family!"
Melee: Mwk Scimitar |Damage |Crit:18/x2
Tellar eyes the dripping blade of this knight warrily but a small smile still plays across his face. Squaring his shoulders, he suddenly sent himself rushing forward, lowering himself to try to catch the man in the gut and carry him over the edge of the ship.
Sin glides through the chaos of the deck, coming face to face with Eredin, the elder Valdemar sibling's black blade snaps to the side to deflect Sin's attack, but the ninja is far too quick, his blade snapping out to slice across the exposed skin on Eredin's chest, drawing a deep line of blood.
The attack is compounded by Edgar's advance, and again Eredin's defense comes moments too late. His sword clashes against Eredin, once, twice and a third before the rogue's blade snaps up to slit through Eredin's robes and cut deep into the flesh of his leg.
"They were weak!" he retorts to Edgar, "The greatness our family had, the secrets of my father! They would have it held me back from it and I won't allow that!" The black sword snaps forward again, and pierces Edgar's side, driving deep into flesh. Pressing the attack Eredin leans in and grins wickedly, "You'll always be a slave to her boy, No matter how pretty you make yourself or how brave you fight, you will always be common. My sister's never going to drop her knickers for you. ... Starse, maybe, but not you." Despite his arrogant words, Eredin is obviously losing, already bleeding profusely, he stumbles back with a hard limp to his stride.
As he taunts Edgar, Tellar turns his attention to the dark knight and charges him. The man reacts with a lightning speed that belies his stature, and as Tellar closes in, the wicked looking axe comes down hard on his shoulder! Cleaving through armor and flesh, Tellar feels the wash of pain as tendon and bone snap like tinders and blood fountains out, all followed by the searing burn of the blade's acid and all at once Tellar's arm goes limp and numb.
But his momentum is strong and the priest barrels into the blackguard, sending him tumbling backwards and over the edge of the boat in one swift motion.
Tellar leans heavily on the boat's rail, seeing the black armored figure thrash futiely as the waves pull him under the waters, down, down into the depths.
"So you KILLED him? And thrown Emilia to the wolves? What has happened to you?"
Edgar drops his cutlass, ignoring his wound and leers at Eredin.
"You're right, I may be a nobody... But unlike you I have morals!"
Edgar snarls, as he swings a sap, barely missing Eredin's head!
Melee: Sap |Damage |Crit:20/x2
Flanking Sneak Attack
The Mighty Lord Starse is likely to meet an incredibly ignominious end. How any of their buccaneers made it is utterly beyond him. Why, how anyone could make such a fantastic jump when a Taldoran Lord should plummet to his watery grave is unthinkable. What foolishness. What a horrid way to *SPLASH*.
Eaton sinks like a stone, his chainmail shirt hardly weighing a thing, restricting movement not at all, and yet, down he goes, utterly unable to remain afloat in the turbulent water between the two ships.
Phaedra's jaw drops as she watches Lord Starse go under the waves. The Gods only know how that man has made it to adulthood acting the way he does. A quick glance about the battle let's her know that everyone else appears occupied or injured, so she decides that it is up to her to something.
Phaedra scrambles to find a long enough rope to tie off to the ship railing at one end and ties the other to her waist, prays it will be long enough to reach the drowning lord and then jumps after him.
Tellar barrels into the Black garbed knight, just as the wicked looking axe comes down hard on his shoulder! Cleaving through armor and flesh, Tellar feels the wash of pain as tendon and bone snap like tinders and blood fountains out, all followed by the searing burn of the blade's acid and all at once Tellar's arm goes limp and numb. After a second, feeling returns, burning agony right through his whole body. Thankfully though Tellar can still move his fingers, albeit with screaming pain.
But he has more immediate problems as that axe is brought up and slashed across with enough speed and force to shatter a tree trunk! Tellar pivots himself out of the way of the strike, even as the dark warrior glares at him with as much venom as what coats his axe, "Infidel and desecrated, I'll send you to the Lord of the Depth's tomb myself."
He shifts his weight to strike, a blow Tellar is sure will kill him, when an arrow darts between the two, striking the wood just inches from the knight's feet, giving Tellar a needed and welcome second of respite.
Glancing over he sees Emilia, on foot on the side of the Laughing Rogue with her bow and arrow in hand. already notching another missile.
"Ha! Morals," Eredin taunts as their blades cross again and again, despite his wounds, holding his own. "You're a pet Edgar, a damned stray that my uncle took in and Emilia took a liking to. Dressed you up in pretty clothes, pretended you were respectable..."
As Edgar drops his sword and lunges with his sap, Eredin steps to the side and dodges, slicing for Edgar's ear - just missing, " but you aren't one of them Edgar. You don't belong of the side of the angels."
Phaedra steps onto the rail of the ship's side and dives. Suddenly the two ships don't seem far apart, but close. Very very close. The creaking screams of the wooden beams like the roar of dragons, only to be muffled by the near silent darkness of the waters.
Kicking with all of her might towards Eaton, Phaedra makes it just short, her fingers slashing through empty water, trying to grab the man's outstretched palm.
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"We have you now Eredin. Give up or be slaughtered!"
Swearing softly under his breath, as he catches sight of Eaton, then Phaedra plummit over the side, Sin hedges his bets, turning instead to more pressing matter. Slipping away out of the battle with Eredin, Sin moves to flank the Black Knight, with Tellar, lashing out with his blade at the mans exposed neck.
With steps as silent as the grave, Sin carries himself across the ship. Down a flight of stairs, a step up to the rail and three strides take him towards Tellar and the Blackguard. Rolling to his left, Sin's blade whips out like a scorpion's stinger - there and gone - and blood fountains from the evil knight's neck, as Sin rolls up to a crouch behind him.
The Dark knight glares back at Sin, clutching his wounds, and then turns to eye Tellar, his eyes mixed with desperation and he says, compels even, "When this ends, you throw me overboard and give me to the waves. I will not have my remains shoved into the dirt. You understand me?!" his eyes bore into Tellar's, expressing a strange kinship, even as he grips his axe all the tighter, tossing aside his shield to use both hands...
Tellar's eyes linger on the axe and he pauses for only a moment before nodding. I promise, if that is your fate, the sea will have you.
Reaching out Tellar's hand glows a deep blue as he pushes against the man's chest, frost coating the armor and burning the skin beneath.