Dare coughed. "Thanks." he said to the elf.
Dare coughed. "Thanks." he said to the elf.
"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings."
Audrey sliced off the head of one of the wrathgills and wondered if they tasted any good. Looking over toward where the creatures had first boarded, she saw Dart helping the boy to his feet. "Newbie," she muttered. She wondered if he planned on joining the crew, or if he came to "rescue" his sister. She sighed as she dodged an attack, jumping towards the left. Sweeping her serrated knife across its body, she sliced open its chest, causing organs both of fish and man to spill across the deck. "Wonderful. I suppose I'll have to clean this up later. . ." she mumbled to herself. Or maybe I could talk the boy into swabbing the deck. She pondered the idea as she turned to kill another wrathgill. "Gods, will they ever stop boarding?!" she yelled to no one in particular as even more of the creatures climbed onto the ship.
OOC: I just got the new Artemis Fowl book (The Time Paradox), so my style of writing might change in a lil' bit.
IC: Dart began slashing at the Wrathgills that were boarding. Their organs fell upon the deck in a mess filled with blood and bile. The smell of death was in the air.
OOc: Short post! I'm not in the mood for a long one!
OOC: Oh no, I refuse to miss an epic sea battle!
IC: Siren hadn't really been paying much attention to what was going on, it just seemed to much all at once. Everyone had been running around, preoccupied with their own happenings. Then again, who could make sense of some of the madness on deck? When redheads began falling from the sky if was most definitly a sign that chaos was erupting on ship. Instead, she spent her time inspecting the vessel and was finished with her deck inspection when she heard a distant familiar sound.
The sickening gurgiling and sputtering, it was something she had only encountered once at a young age. Even still, it had only been in a sheltered environment, Wrathgills did not often attack mermaid clans and when they did, they almost always lost. The ocean was big enough to share, one could travel it entirely and still never meet a single soul. Most ocean inhabitants ignored the chance of attacking mermaids, afterall they had a reputation as being seductive enchantresses. Why risk the chance of loosing your males? Mermaids were peaceful enough anyway, their only real quarrel was with the land dwellers.
"Now, this is my elelment!" Siren laughed, although it seemed rather inapporpriate
With a graceful swan dive into the ocean, her sword began to make quick work of those still climbing aboard from the murky waters. It took her a moment to find her rythm, afterall they had traveled long and her tail had been rather unused in that time. But, with her tail muscles now in motion she glided through and out of the water at alarming speeds. Even she was surprised by her efforts, their jouney thus far had certainly made her stronger.
Bonechill looked up from his silent contemplation. Most of the guards were dead, the very annoying old guy had released all the prisoners, save for himself and the thing in the cell next to him. Now the sounds of combat echoed once again on the deck. Time to enact a daring escape and see if he could offer his services to whoever had stolen the ship. Fortunately it looked as if there were at least a few guards littering the ground outside his cell.
The Necromancer's eyes rolled back in his head as he chanted. dark energy swirled invisibly about the brig. Suddenly one of the guards began to rise. His flesh cracked and peeled, slipping away, taking the majority of meaty meat and juicy organs with it. The skeleton, slick with blood, reached down to retrieve the keys from it's own pile of flesh. It slowly stalked toward the cell. In a moment, Thaddeus du Morte was free once more.
He raised another skeleton, opened the lock on the last cell and stalked up the steps.
The Necromancer surveyed the deck. He was flanked by his two boney bodyguards. It looked as if fishmen were attacking the ship. How droll. Death energy crackled at his fingertips as he drained the life from one of the monsters. He smiled beatifically as the thing gave a pitiful death gurgle and plopped to the deck. For a moment it even seemed as if color returned to his pale cheeks, but that as an illusion. Bonechill was pale as the moon and that is how he would remain.
((ooc well that's...convenient. bout time someone let my other character out... thanks G.))
Cho'kar leapt forward into the fray. Mid leap, both of the Fangs of the Hunter came out and his arms went wide. The orc landed in a crouch and two Wrathgill's fell, feebly clutching their throats. He came up, driving a khukri into another creature's stomach. The band was making definate headway against the creatures.
And then Siren plummeted into the water. Cho'kar worried about her for a brief moment, but she WAS a mermaid. She'd survive. He continued to attack the boarders, battling alongside his comrades until lightning erupted across the deck.
Murg'll'gll'clk was the head shaman of this boarding party. He was determined to claim sacrifices for Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. He had THOUGHT his warriors would be enough, but as they fell in droves it became apparent that he would have to take matters into his own fins. The shaman watched as his lightning disrupted the melee and now he could pick out distinct targets. The Wrathgill shaman prepared another blast of lightning.
Baal Sar heard the turn of the key. He waited breathlessly for a moment before pushing the door open. He was free. The priest of Vanth stepped into the dimly lit corridor of the hold. He could detect the taint of Undeath. Vanth was a godess of Death, and it's fulfillment. The Undead were a twisted mockery, thwarting death in the most repugnent of ways. Still if the fleeing Necromancer had saved him, he would not argue the point. Slowly, cloven hooves began to ascend the stairs. Freedom after so long, was his.
JOIN AN RP YOU SLACKERS!
At the deafening crack of lightning hitting the deck, Audrey flinched rather spastically and drove her knife involuntarily into a Wrathgill behind her. As her battle-frenzied brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened, another Wrathgill saw its opportunity. She saw it coming from the corner of her eye, and moved just in time for its attack to miss her chest. The blow instead landed on her forearm, the creature's webbed claws ripping into her flesh. Acting on instinct alone, Audrey jerked her arm free, resulting in five bloody gashes almost parallel to each other, about six inches long.
Some would have considered her lucky, as the Wrathgill had attacked her left arm, not her sword arm. She did not. The wound's searing pain left blotches across her vision, but not so that she couldn't see the beast that inflicted the cuts. In an almost blind rage, she whipped around with her right arm and slit the thing's neck. Slime sprayed everywhere, including in her gashes, which (if it was even possible) made the pain even worse. Audrey dropped her knife and cupped her hand around her forearm. She knew that she had to bandage the wound soon, but the pain was so intense that she was growing faint. Her thoughts blurred together, as did the figures on deck. Struggling to remain conscious, she sank to the ground involuntarily, her legs refusing to support her weight. Though she knew that her eyes were open, blotches obscured her vision. The last thing she remembered was her head hitting the wooden planks of the ship's deck, slippery with Wrathgill slime and her own blood.
Dare quickly jumped to his feet. He slashed his sword every which way, causing limbs and other unidentifiable things flying.
He checked on Danielle, who was fighting quite well. He looked just in time to see a girl with huge gashes in her arm collapse to the floor. Dare quickly made his way across the mangled bodies over to her.
"Miss? Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down beside her.
"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings."
Thadeus continued to drain the life from the Wrathgills, he had tentatively sent his skeletons forward and now they two were battling the fishy things.
Thadeus eyes gleamed as he saw Hikari fall. Yes if they lost a few members of their crew then they'd HAVE to take him in. Of course he couldn't finish her off, much as he might like too, someone might find out. And THAT would exacerbate things to a level that Bonechill the Necromancer was not prepared for.
Insteaed he focused his attentions on ridding the ship of unfriendly wrathgills. Of course to do that, he'd need to make some friendly ones. And so with a string of magic words and arcane hand gestures, Bonechill's smile widened as a wrathgill skeleton tore itself out of one of the fallen bodies. Then Another, and another. Soon he had a small band of about five skeletons battling their former brethern. The pale faced man couldn;t help but elicit an evil laugh.
Upon hearing the commotion it only took Keke a moment to spring into action. Forming the image of a Flame in her mind she shoved every emotion into it, feeding the fire in such a way allowed her to float in the vast numbness of the Void. Holding the meditative trance known as the Oneness allowed greater accuracy, greater precision, greater concentration.
Drawing four arrows she quickly knocked them and sent them rocketing into the heavens. They Hailed down upon the enemy, none finding a home within an ally. Without pause she drew another arrow and released. Keke stood, feet slightly apart, shifting almost imperceptibly as arrow after arrow flew from her bow, each coming to rest in an eye. Knock, shift, aim, fire, repeat. She could not say how many of the strange fish-goblins fell to her bow while she was wrapped in the calmness of the Void.
Finally they took notice of her, standing in the shadows. Two broke away from the pack and were on her before she noticed. Drawing her sword and dagger she spun in a circle to come up behind the one on the left. She extended right arm and pushed the Nimcha completely through the creature's middle, without breaking motion she brought the dagger up to slit it's throat. Her foot kicked at the wrathgill's back to dislodge it from her weapon and she stepped back to avoid any blood splatter.
The second turned to flee as it watched it's companion fall, but she would have none of that. Unwilling to sheath her weapons fouled as they were by the strange acrid blood, she threw her dagger. She smiled with satisfaction when it lodged into the retreating foe's back.
The tedious sounds of battle were shattered by a voice, urgent yet concerned. "Miss, are you all right?"
The voice pulled Audrey out of unconsciousness, much to her dismay. She was immediately reminded of her wound, thanks to the stinging and numbing sensation taking place in her arm. Despite her groggy mind, she managed to open her heavy eyelids, squinting in the sun that so contrasted the darkness of sleep. Red hair glinted in the sunlight. Dare. Her head began to throb, all she wanted to do was sleep again. . .
"Look out, you moron!" she scolded him as her battle instincs took over yet again. Ingoring the pain in her head, she sat up and reached for her dagger, pulling it from the sheath at her waist. She stabbed the Wrathgill that had been about to finish Dare off from behind. The thing's guts spilled onto him, and Audrey managed a giggle. Her head now throbbed terribly, and the pain from her arm didn't help at all. She couldn't pass out, not now; no one needed to risk their life trying to protect her. The Oracle's vision assaulted her almost as vividly as when she had expirienced it first. Self-hate propelled her onward, she stood up slowly. She would prove her worth, and she would not do it by fainting during a battle like some helpless barmaid. Audrey wiped the Wrathgill remains from her dagger on Dare's shirt, much to his remorse. Though the pain pounded on her brain like a dwarf's forging hammer, she stabbed a Wrathgill with its back to her. It was then that she noticed a pale figure clad in black chanting incantations. For all she knew, it could have been some fancy conjured up by her throbbing head. Focusing on the battle, she realized that the fish-creatures had stopped boarding, but their numbers were far from slain. Without hesitating, she stumbled into back into the battle.
Cho'kar turned and charged the shaman. Lightning could not only sear his comrades away to ash, but worse it could start a fire on the ship. And in his experience that could be worse than a heavy storm. Someone had to stop the thing before it doomed the entire crew. With a grunt, he tackled Murg'll'gll'clk and the both went over the rail and disappeared into the dark waters with a splash.
Baal Sar emerged from the hold and his head swiveled on way and then the other. More importantly the weathered staff he held swiveled. Instantly he regretted the decision, with the amount of human like beings on the ship, fighting for their lives against animalistic fish men, he was sure to be confused with some evil monster.
The priest of Vanth was about average height, standing about 5'10, though his great spiralling Ibex horns reached up to make it around 6'10. He was covered in shaggy fur, His legs were massive goatlike things, ending in cloven hooves. A ragged hood covered the face of a large goat, but it showed enough to reveal part of the horror of Baal Sar. He had no eyes, where there should be optic orbs, or at least sockets, there was instead only wrinkly folds of flesh. His vision seemed to be provided wholey by a string of eyeballs that dangled from the gnarled staff he leaned heavily on. The Satyr's skin was covered in weeping sores.
His best bet would be to make himself useful. He scanned the deck for wounded and Hikari caught his attention first. She dripped from a dozen wounds now. Fortunately the wounded and near dying fishmen and soldiers lying the decks provided him with enough fuel to work Vanth's will. He bowed his head and prayed. As he did rippling, dark energy snaked out, choking the life from three mortally wounded wrathgills and one almost dead soldier. Their spirits went up into the air with a faint wail as he pointed the staff toward the Cook. Suddenly a wave of healing washed over her. It was unlike the healing Daerid had once provided. It cleansed the wounds, sealed the cuts, mended broken bones, and smoothed bruises, leaving a clean peaceful feeling. Yes, the healing touch of Baal Sar was a wonderful thing to experience, but the cost to fuel those spells was dire.
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Bonechill wrinkled his face in disgust as the goat thing appeared, marring his angelic features for a brief moment. It wasn't the appearance of the thing that caused such a reaction. No, Thaddeus Du Morte had dealt with far more repulsive things, he even delighted in it. This creature was a Priest of Vanth though, and Vanth despised Necromancers. She wanted death to be a sacred peace. HA! Everyone with any ambition knew that Death was a means to power. A person who could wield death, cheat it, manipulate it. THEY could do whatever the hell they wanted too. Pain was transient and to the properly prepared Death was merely a delay in plans. Still between these warriors and his skeletons the tide was quickly turning. Soon there would be no living fishymen left. Good, that mean that there would be plenty of putrid rotting bodies just waiting to be exploited for his reseach. He'd just have to talk to the owners of this find vessel into letting him have a small room for his private research. Shouldn't be hard though, who wouldn't want a small army of expendable lifeless troops? Bah! Now the thing had healed the girl. He was going to be competition. But Bonechill could deal with competition... he could deal with it in spades.
[:yes: Sex Power]
Anyone looking at the way the lightening fell would now notice an anomaly. Some of the bolts seemed intent on missing the crew completely, and struck a few feet above the deck on nothing at all. Two figures began to materialise around the striking point, finally becoming a black robed swordsman and a faintly glowing woman. "I told you it would work!" exclaims Jess, smiling broadly. Truth be told she is amazed she has succeeded, although she won't let it show.
"Well done," replies Ervan. He looks around at the battle. "And we're in a battle. Fantastic." He draws his sword, then dives to his left as a bolt of lightening almost fries him. "Did you do that!?" he shouts at Jess, furious.
"It wasn't me," she replies.
"Well, whoever it was, is there anything you can do about it?"
"I think so." She tries to rid the skies of thunderclouds, but to no avail. "Whoever's doing this is powerful..." she murmurs, then changes her spell. Suddenly heavy rain starts falling as the lightening stops.
"I suppose that will do," says Ervan before he dives into the battle.
Keke strolled over to the felled corpse of the seagoblinthing that still had her dagger sticking from it's back. The little buggars sure were easy to kill, but numerous and vicious. Their number on the ship seemed to have greatly diminished since the onset of the fight; relatively few remained standing on the deck, and many stragglers were jumping overboard to flee, realizing their defeat.
She bent to retrieve her dagger, wiping the blade on the pitiful little creature's hair to cleanse it of blood. She sheathed the dagger and wiped the Nimcha in a similar fashion. Standing, she looked around only to see Cho'kar ram into a shaman and crash into the sea.
Sighing she took off across the deck at a near trot, and cannonballed off the side. It wouldn't do to have him drown, she did still have her oath to fulfill. She'd be damned if it was ever said that an elf went back on her word. She entered the water with a great splash, and sunk several feet.
Keke kicked to propel herself to the surface just as it began to rain, the wind picked up causing the water to stir to choppy waves that threatened to push her under. She opened her mouth to swear, and it was immediately filled with salty water as a wave crashed into her face. This clearly hadn't been one of her better ideas.
She wiped the liquid from her eyes as she struggled to tread water. It felt as though she had swallowed half the ocean, coughing and spluttering. Where had that damn orc gone to? She needed to kill the shaman and get back on deck before one or all three of them drowned.
“Playing hero isn't all it's cracked up to be.” She shouted, coughing and punching the surface which sent more water splashing into her eyes.
Ervan stabs a goblin beasty through the chest, then hears a loud splash, later followed by a loud shout. "Another day, another rescue..." mutters Ervan. He takes a running dive off the ship, entering the water near the source of the shout. He swims over to the person in trouble and grabs their arm. "I've got you," he says. He looks at who he's rescuing. White hair, pointed ears... Ears? "Aren't you dead?"
"Obviously not." Keke said, rolling her eyes. "So what's a guy like you doing in an ocean like this?" No matter how she fought it she couldn't suppress the grin.
Leave it to him to show up with her looking like a drowned rat. Wait, why should she care how she looked?! She was meant to be angry with him. He was a deserter. He was a low-down, dirty rotten scoundrel. He was terribly cute when he looked surprised, as he did just then. Why couldn't she stop smiling?
With Ervan holding one wrist in an ironlike grip, she used her other hand to try to straighten her hair and immediately began to sink...
"Oh no you don't," says Ervan, pulling her back up. He swims back over to the ship with Keke and climbs up the netting back onto the deck, Keke close behind. He turns to her. "Explain."
"Explain?!" She shouted, exasperated. "Explain he says!" She said, looking up to the heavens.
"Explain what!? You are the one who deserted! You are the one who fled in the middle of a battle! You are the one who nearly let me get killed." She tapped her foot, arms crossed, the fact that she was dripping wet and looked half drowned only spoiled the image of indignant female slightly.
"How could I have helped you? I felt the arrow, but I knew I couldn't do anything. And then I couldn't feel you anymore," replies Ervan. He grabs her shoulders and stares into her eyes. "I thought you were dead."
"But I couldn't feel you! What else could it have been!?"
"I... struck a deal with Neptune. So to speak." She forced a little laugh, she had no idea why she lied by omission, but it stung her Honor and she knew she would take on an Obligation to correct the Balance. She averted her eyes.
"The bond has been dissolved. I suppose the god's became bored with torturing us. I'm glad you've returned even if I don't understand why you left." She forced another laugh, and she knew it sounded forced, but she was nervous and unsure what to say.
"Why did you?" She whispered, softly touching her finger tips to his cheek.
"To get my stuff back," replies Ervan. "So, what did I miss?"
“To get his stuff back he says.” She said, once again staring at the Heaven's which were now opening up with a torrential downpour. Hair plastered to her head, clothes plastered to her body.
“Stuff.” She said, scornfully. “STUFF!” She turned and stomped away, pausing at the distance of perhaps 8 feet.
“Stuff.” She said once more, disbelievingly. Spinning, she balanced on one foot then the other to tug off her boots, they were filled with water from her time in the drink and squished when she walked. Quite annoying, really. Though not as annoying as something else that came to mind.
“I hope you enjoy your stuff because you- AHHH!” She broke off mid sentence, unable to articulate further. She threw one boot, catching him off guard, it bounced off his forehead. She doubled over with laughter, holding her middle with her free arm, the other boot still grasped in her hand. She was on the brink of hysteria.
Laughter dying mid breath, she threw the other boot. He brought an arm up to block and it ricocheted off his forearm. She had no idea why it should infuriate her so that he defended against her tirade, but she lost what little control she had.
“Stuff!” She shouted once more, hand darting up her skirt to retrieve the small, well-balanced throwing dagger she kept in her garter. Without thought, she drew her hand over her shoulder and fully extended her arm in a perfect throw. The dagger bloomed in his right shoulder, a circle of red quickly forming.
Perhaps it was the sight of his blood that snapped her out of her tantrum, but realization suddenly spread across her face. She sped across the deck, stopping a hairsbreadth from him, she gently withdrew the dagger from his shoulder, eyes filling with tears. Dropping the dagger to the deck she took his face in both her hands,
“Oh light! I'm so sorry! Ervan, my darling, I don't know why you have to make me so mad. I-” She broke off, remembering. She released him as if burned, “Stuff!”
She turned and stomped off, slamming the door to the lower decks with quite a lot of force. She entered the first cabin she found, tears still streaming down her face, slamming that door as well. She threw herself on the bed, without any care for the fact that she was soaked and the bed soon would be as well. She sobbed without any intention of stopping, her shoulders shaking. She was on what may be politely referred to as a crying jag, and didn't mind it at all.
Ervan was the most childish, immature, selfish, pig-headed, infuriating, annoying human she had ever came across in all her born days... So why did she want to add 'poor lamb' to every opinion she had of him?