Log: Duels On The High Seas
Who: Crimson Dawn, Cathak Lera
When: Sunday, March 2, 2008 (Continued on March 6, 2008)
Where: The West, Creation, on BOATS
What: Cathak Lera was searching, unsuccessfully, for one-eyed warstriders. Unfortunately, someone else was looking for her.
Watch For: Family Reunions, Epic Kung Fu Action, Lera Forgetting Rule One Of Disposing Of Evil Anime Villians
GateMUSH - Sunday, March 02, 2008, 6:24 PM
The Realm warship Wisely Rendered Wayfarer is en route through the West, following after a ship. A supposed First Age vessel, which supposedly had several strange Warstriders with it. The Wayfarer ultimately found nothing; however, as it returned from the outer fringes of the West, a crew of soldiers were picked up. Lera stands on the vessel, now, a hand resting on the railing of the ship. She frowns a little.
She is the sole Dragon-Blooded aboard. The captain of the ship stands behind her, worry and awe in both of his eyes. He looks at her back. "Milady," he says, with a frown. "Are you satisfied?"
Lera smiles, a little, at his nervousness. "Of course, sir."
It really is amazing how much information is to be found in Creation, if one is at least a little bit creative looking for it. It hardly even required any supernatural chicanery to find the mission of the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer. A friendly gentleman in a pub buying an extra round for a sailor back on the blessed isle, a few casual comments from that gentleman to another on the price of salt in the West, and information slowly filters backwards into someone's hands.
In this case, that hand belonged to Seven-Fold Scorpion, a subordinate of the Bringer of Darkness in the Crimson Dawn, and a ship was prepped and launched.
The West is a dangerous place, after all. There are places where small shadowlands mark communities wiped out in the aftermath of the Usurpation. And it is from one of these, concealed in a bank of mist, that a sleek, menacing shape makes itself known to the immeadiate area, a 'privateer' slashing out on an intercept course for the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer.
While the ship is ominously silent, there being little, if any, chatter between the crew, the lookouts, once they catch sight of the sleek privateer, will take note of two things. The first is that the ship's flag is a simple, flat black, with a crimson handprint on it. The other is a figure calmly standing on top of the figurehead, cloak billowing behind it as the privateer silently begins to close on the Realm warship, flat red eyes locked on the ship.
It appears that while the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer has failed to find it's prey, there's a chance it may become someone else's prey this day!
"We have something," the man on the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer's crow's nest shouts. The man grits his teeth, before he points towards it. "To the north-northwest!"
The Captain turns. Lera does likewise; as her eyes spy the flag, they widen just a little. She shakes her head, then, and then looks away from the ship and back to the Captain. One hand falls to the sword at her side, and she nods her head - wishing she knew more of sailing. She was not admiral material.
"Make haste," she commands. "I doubt that vessel means us well."
The Captain grimaces. "Full sails! Put your backs to the oars!" The sails unfurl more, filling with wind - and the oars pick it up, moving quicker.
The privateer responds in kind as the oars are run out by its prey. Sails billow, and there is a rattling noise, and racks of oars are run out, a splash echoing as they hit the water. The figure on the prow of the ship simply raises a hand, then points towards the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer. In unison, the oars being to row, moving as smoothly and mechanically as if a machine were pushing them, not flesh and sinew. Alas, that is one thing that makes privateers operating out of Skullstone so dangerous, after all, as it is relatively cheap to hire the labor of the dead, and undead rowers feel no pain and know no fatigue.
Aboard ship, Crimson Dawn nods in satisfaction, turning slightly and making a gesture to a person standing at attention behind him.
"Bring us close. Then prepare for boarding. No survivors."
The pirate nods quickly, looking, perhaps, just a /bit/ nervous at the Deathknight's presence even as Crimson Dawn turns back to his vigil, eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation of the coming hunt.
The Wayfarer doesn't stay ahead for long. Despite the wind coming across the ship's bow, it was made for transporting troops and war material. It is caught up with quickly, causing Lera to scowl. This part, the woman can handle; she draws both of her daiklaves, and looks at the ship's crew. She lacks the time for them to listen to the Captain, through her. She frowns.
"Prepare for boarding!" she shouts, before looking at the crewmen drawing arrows. She nods her head.
"Draw and fire!" The men lift their bows up - and loose their arrows, sending them raining down towards the crewmembers of the Skullstone boat.
My! An extremely effective volley indeed! The arrows arc up, landing and peppering the deck of the privateer with arrows, skewering many of the crew.
Unfortunately, many of them simply get right back up again, going about their tasks heedless of the arrows jutting through torsos and limbs. Well, not all of them. There are casualties, of course. Some of the crew, frankly, are dead and not moving at all. The privateer, however, keeps on coming, the boarding troops silently lining the rails of the ship. Black armor, black shields, and gleaming weapons are in quantity, and the Deathknight calmly turns, nodding at a lieutenant.
"Return fire."
Annnd, with that, an answering volley is sent hissing across the water towards the Realm warship.
Lera grits her teeth; she sees several arrows come in, and swings her sword - the left one neatly slashes an arrow in half that comes at her. He scowls, seeing the warriors who are lined up to meet them. Skullstone, she thinks, angrily. And to make it worse, she recognizes their leader.
The Bringer of Darkness in the Crimson Dawn. She scowls further, and then looks at the Captain. An idea comes to her, suddenly, and she acts on it. "DROP ANCHOR!" she shouts. "Don't question it," she roars, "just do it!"
"I... very well! Drop anchor!" the Captain echoes. As crew men draw their swords and axes, preparing for the boarders, one lets a chain loose - and it goes descending down. The anchor splashes into the seas, before it crashes further and further downward. It hits the seabed below, and then the ship yanks forward. The chain groans, metal scraping against metal.
And then the shop stops - and the fast moving privateer promises to ram right into it.
See, a normal captain would take actions to dodge this.
Crimson Dawn is not normal.
Crimson Dawn is also /completely freaking nuts/.
Annnnd, as such, is just standing on top of the ship's figure head, arms crossed over his chest, watching with a clinical disinterest as the privateer's prow slams straight into the Realm Warship with a mighty crash, jostling crew on both ships.
Crimson Dawn, however, has simply transferred his perch, standing on the Realm ship's railing, eyes just /staring/ at
Lera, even as his boarders (Well, the survivors. Some were hit by debris or knocked overboard, naturally) let fly with grapnels and begin to swarm over.
Crimson Dawn, however, ignores everyone else, just /staring/ at Lera, a slight smile on his face.
"Hello, Cousin."
Course, he hasnt' drawn the pair of daiklaives at his hips, but, well, that hardly makes him harmless, neh?
The boarders are met by the charging crewmen. They had been better prepared; they lunge, and some chop at grappling hooks as they see them coming downward. The blades also come down at helmets and faces, while swords are stabbed hurriedly at others. But, some make it over. Crewmen fall; blood shoots out, limbs chopped and thrown over the battlefield. The Captain draws his sword, and grits his teeth.
"FOR THE REALM!" he shouts, as he charges forward.
Lera's green eyes narrow; she fights back her nervousness and fear. She then shakes it off, and lunges forward. Her two blades are drawn. "Good evening, cousin!" she snaps at him - and stabs the left daiklave for Dawn's chest, before following with a slash from her right sword.
The boarding party is nothing if not persistent. Arrows, debris, and now virtous Realm sailors and soldiers, and yet, they still keep coming. The boarders quickly form a knot as the survivors who make the gauntlet of the defenders begin to form up and grow, wickedly edged swords hacking into their enemies, even as boarders are cut down. Course, as the earlier arrow volley attested, not all of the boarders are technically alive, some of them staggering to their feet with 'fatal' wounds and lunging back into the fray. Others are left crumpled on the deck of the ship, their blood mixing with that of the Realm's brave crew, but those still standing keep finding with grim determination. After all, what does it matter if they die, if they are promised a better unlife?
As for Crimson Dawn, the deathknight smirks at Lera's charge, almost casually drawing a daiklaive so that it's vertically parallel to his body, parrying the first stab, then flipping the blade and locking it against the right hand slash. His other daiklaive is drawn then, aiming an almost casual slice for Lera's face, those dead red eyes still locked on her face, along with that small, almost insulting smile.
The left sword in Lera's hand swings around - and their blades meet with an impressive clang. She holds it there, for a moment, pushing against the two swords. He is stronger, she thinks; that worries Lera, and what worries her more is that she may not have speed on her side. As such, after a moment, she pushes back - freeing herself from the parry and skidding over the wooden deck of the ship.
Her teeth clench together, as she looks at him balefully. "What are you doing out here?" she snaps, as she focuses her essence. There is a brief red flash, before a bolt of flame leaves her sword with a smooth flash - and hurtles towards the Deathknight.
And that bolt of blame is met by a daiklaive's blade, and batted aside. It happens to incinerate a boarder. Crimson Dawn is indifferent.
The Abyssal smiles, casually twirling a daiklaive in one hand.
"I just simply wanted to say hello to my /dear/ little cousin. After all, I never managed to congratulate you on graduating from the House of Bells. Although, it /was/ a rather nice ceremony."
And, with that, the Deathknight dashes forwards, both blades trailing behind him, slicing a thin, blade-wide trench through the wood as he brings both swords up in a crossing stroke, spinning from the momentum, cloak trailing behind him as he lands in a guard position. Still smiling. Still dead-eyed.
"Oh, were you there? Or were you thinking of your own?" Lera snaps at him. She leaps at him, meeting his left sword with her right. The two Daiklaves strike together in a shower of sparks. The tall girl's eyes narrow, as she looks at his dead eyes and his cold smile - and then she feels the right one slash into her side, biting through armor and drawing blood. The girl hisses, before she moves forward.
She tries to check her shoulder into his solar plexus, to start. That is followed, hastily, by sweeping up her own left sword. The cold jade of the weapon flashes in the air, as she tries to slice neatly into the Deathknight's side.
That smile is still there. Even as the edge of jade slides smoothly along an arm, a few droplets of dark blood spattering onto the deck. Even as he smiles, reversing both blades so their pommels are up, as he attempts to clap them both to the sides of Lera's head, then kicking backwards to avoid retaliation as he continues to calmly talk, even over the chaos and sounds of blades parrying.
"Both, really. Yours wasn't too bad, but the class wasn't as large as it could be. Attrition is /such/ a problem for the Realm these days, isn't it? So, I see your superiors are still rewarding talent with stupidity and posting you to such a dead-end and dangerous job, hmmm? I mean, if the Lintha, Fair Folk, and pirates don't get you, there's always a chance I will~"
"What would it matter?" Lera snaps at him. "I see potential in the work - and no one has ever gotten /truly/ far without hardship to stand in their way. It's what we Exalts were bred for!" the woman says, eyes narrowing. Then, though, the pommels hit her head. This causes her to stumble, stunned for a moment. She gets kicked backward, and almost falls over.
Instead, she pushes a hand off the deck and turns, rolling her feet around to come up standing. She frowns, and looks up, at the Deathknight. There is a pause there, as she gets back to a balanced position - one he could use.
Crimson Dawn snorts derisively.
"/Bred/ for? Please, dear, at least /try/ to sound like you're better than some disgusting little beastman bred for war. I'd certainly hope the Relatives raised you better. That reminds me, how are you parents?"
The Abyssal, while still talking, calmly paces forwards, then blurs forwards with his daiklaives out and ready, one aimed high for the throat, the other aimed low for her belly.
"Your father stopped that affair he was having with that Cynis's gardener, right?"
Lera desperately moves to block the strikes. One sword hits the blade coming high for her throat - and bats it aside, with a loud ring of metal upon metal. She hisses softly, as the sword still comes near her. The second blade meets his sword before it can hit her side, and pushes it away. Her green eyes narrow, angrily. "My parents' affairs... are none of your concern!"
She realizes that she is in a bad spot; parrying with little out for offense. It comes to her; the left blade is flung aside, throwing his further back, and lands tip-first in the wooden plate. Then, a sword of flame forms in her hands. Lera lets out a shout, and lunges - stabbing that fiery sword right for his stomach!
The Abyssal hmmmms at that response, even as the sword's batted aside...and then, heyooooo! Flame On! Huh!
Crimson Dawn sidesteps the flaming sword, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he can /feel/ a burn from the near miss. A minor one, to be sure, but still. Hmmm.
"...So, I take it that means that he's still seeing the gardener, then. Ah well. Would explain why you've survived, I suppose. Whatever."
Annnd, with that, Crimson Dawn calmly makes a pair of simple slashes, then flips backwards, flinging both daiklaives straight towards Lera. Disarmed?!
Hardly. Chains whip out from his sleeves a moment later, snagging the blades by the hilt and attempting to whip them back to his hands. If they hit, great. If not, well, he's sure it'll be disconcerting.
"Also, I'm really quite dissapointed, my dear. I mean, here you fall into an obvious, if not well-executed guard stance, inviting an attack, and then you pull out that whole flaming sword gimmick. Very tacky, you know."
The blades that come flying at Lera are, to say the least, disconcerting. However, they are dodged - she moves to the left of one, letting the weapon sail under her arm, and then ducks a little as she runs. The sword goes right over her, as her other hand comes down and grabs the blade she left in the ship deck. She leaps, then, gritting her teeth together. "It is a common Charm of the Dragon-Blooded!"
Her left sword comes down again - but instead of striking him it explodes with sparks right in front of the Abyssal's face. This is so, when she lands, she can /pivot/ - and that swings her right daiklave straight for the man's stomach.
Well, really, Crimson Dawn is hardly /just/ a man anymore. Still, as the flashy burst of fire goes off, the Abyssal blinks, a bit disoriented as Lera makes to gut him like a fish. Crimson Dawn is highly distracted, and off guard!
And that's why he loves reflexive charms.
A minute burst of essence crackles around him, hardening into a shell, even as he rolls to the side. As such, instead of being horribly gutted and bleeding his little black heart out on the deck as the daiklaive cleaves through armor, skin, and bone, he gets a long, annoying cut along his stomach.
Granted, it's bleeding. But the Abyssal frowns, looking down at it, and then casually looks up at Lera.
"...Now, that's just /cheating/."
Note that he doesn't sound dissapointed, even as he charges right back at Lera, having only snapped up a single daiklaive, the other lazily slipping up a chain length towards his hand. Still, the reason for having a free hand becomes evident as, after a quick pair of strikes to slap her blades out of the way, he simply attempts his oldest and favoritest combat maneuver: The Face-Grab-And-Floor-Slam, followed by a kick and some mocking laughter!
Mind, even if he misses, there will probably be mocking laughter. It's just how he is!
"Ghh!" Lera snorts, angrily, as she gets her blades batted aside - and then has her head slammed down into the deck of the ship. It gives her a bloody nose, and promptly; she spits blood out, and grunts, before she considers her position for a very brief moment - being brought low on a ship like this leaves her at a crucial disadvantage. She decides to take advantage of it, to try to turn the tables.
She doesn't aim for sweeping her feet around; that would just put him down on the floor and leave him able to hurt her. Instead, one hand flashes out, quick as lightning. In that hand is her green jade Daiklave, Morning Glory.
She sweeps that sword out, hard, for Crimson Dawn's Achilles' Tendon.
Yes, well, Crimson Dawn is a bit busy chortling at her predicament. Really, for being an undead deathknight of unspeakable evil, he's a bit...petty. That, or very, very confident. Either or. As for the Achilles' Tendon strike, the daiklaive slaps into something just a bit tougher than flesh or bone. Somewhere between 'face-slam' and 'taunting laughter', a tendril of soulsteel chain had spiked itself into the deck, vertically, forming a barrier that catches the daiklaive's incapacitating strike, turning it aside by a whisker's edge, leaving a narrow gouge along Crimson Dawn's foot.
Course, while Crimson Dawn just stands there, smiling cheerfully, a multitude of the chains slither up his back, waving back and forth behind his shoulders before the host of a half dozen or so of the chains go stabbing at her.
"Hmmmm. Better, better. At least you're /trying/ to fight dirty."
Lera's eyes go wide, as she stares at the chains coming down at her. She finds herself with no other option; flame erupts from around her, making the floor blacken instantly. Both of her swords suddenly lash out, in flashes of red flame that trail after her. The blades meet each chain, perfectly - deflecting them with showers of sparks and neatly moving them away. As the last of the chains is knocked away, she lunges forward.
She has a scowl on her face; she isn't enjoying this. "Fighting dirty? Hardly! This is not an honor duel!"
She strikes again - this time, a low stab aimed at his abdomen, with the daiklave in her left hand.
And Crimson Dawn moves, twisting slightly, and slams a foot down on the top of the incoming Daiklaive, sending it juddering straight down into the deck. The chains finally snap his second daiklaive back into his right hand, and he strikes out with it, aiming for her other daiklaive. As for his own secondary daiklaive, the abyssal slams it around, attempting a vicious slice aimed right for Lera's belly, using the momentum of the cut to roll away, getting a bit of distance as he smirks at his cousin.
"And yet, sometimes, your idiotic kin /try/ to treat it as one. Sheesh."
Lera's right daiklave gets batted to the side by Dawn's, and her left one is stepped on midstab. She sees the sword in his other hand coming for her stomach, and knows that brings the promise of death with it, should he strike. She sucks in a breath, and as he steps on her daiklave, bringing it to the deck, the Dynast kicks off it.
As a result, she somersaults - kicking her feet into the air, over his sword, and right for his face. She tries to kick into him, before slamming her feet down to the ground and coming back up standing.
Impressive. Despite himself, Crimson Dawn really is impressed. Sniff. If he had tear glands left, he'd be shedding a tear of pride at how much his little cousin has grown up!
Instead, he simply leans backwards as the kick comes screaming in for his precious face, landing on his back and laughing as he rolls backwards, smoothly coming up on his feet a good few yards away from her.
"Not bad, not bad! You're actually becoming a /threat/, cousin!"
And, still smiling amiably, he then launches a bolt of necrotic essence at her face.
Crypt Bolts, yo.
The Crypt Bolt slams into Lera, throwing her backward. Some of her essence is drained away in that moment, and she is sent rolling across the deck floor. She hacks, before she comes up kneeling - and then stands up again, shaking herself out. He is still stronger than her, Lera thinks with no small amount of annoyance. She would need to think of something, before he killed her.
She grits her teeth, looking around for a moment, until it occurs to her - the thing that is right behind her. It would be risky, but she could manage.
She looks back at him, and then swings both blades out in front her - and sends off a blazing fiery bolt, right for him.
The Abyssal blinks as the firebolt comes roaring down deck to him, frowning slightly as he murmurs.
"Too big to dodge..."
Shrugging, the Abyssal brings both blades up, crossing them as he attempts to catch the fire bolt, his own essence flaring as the hungry daiklaives devour the essence construct with a 'bang', the Abyssal a bit singed from the aftermath.
"And if I cannot dodge, I will block! PREPARE YOURSELF FOR OBLIVION, COUSIN!"
It appears that Crimson Dawn is finished playing, as he's charging Lera, both swords out and hungry. Whatever her plan is, it had better be a doozy.
Lera sucks in a breath. This is it, the young woman thinks. Do or die time - he has murder in his eyes, and she doesn't trust him to turn this into another game. Sooner or later, he would want her dead. She makes her decision, then, and waits for just a moment longer, looking ready to meet him and parry his blows. She sucks in a deep breath, as she takes a dagger off her belt.
She throws it - a graceful throw, which may seem to be a stopping measure. It is, in all truth, a feint; the blade ignites with flame after a moment, as it flies at him. She turns once he has that to deal with, and swings her right daiklave hard. The blade rips into the mast of the ship behind her, splitting it down the middle. Wood shoots out in long splinters, chunks of it and of sawdust flying out in a wave. The mast begins to topple.
Which is when Lera leaps. She twists, kicking it hard - and sends it flying off towards Crimson Dawn, with sudden speed and fury. She ends by drawing out her left daiklave again, and striking it just as it goes flying away.
The mast cracks down the middle, splitting into numerous long spears of wood that catch fire in an instant - a veritable firestorm of wooden shards, spreading out in an immense arc in front of her.
Crimson Dawn's mad charge is checked, the Abyssal blinking as he watches the mast start to topple.
"...Oh, you clever little bi-"
And then that's when the mast shatters and cracks, with Crimson Dawn at ground zero. The massive firestorm catches Abyssal, burying him in the flames, even as the shards of wood continue onwards, ripping through his troops and blasting the majority of the raiding party into oblivion.
Disheartened, the privateer begins to pull away. After all, they just watched THEIR (Technically) exalt get pasted by the Realm's Exalt! Like hell they're going to stick around so she can toast THEIR ship too.
Many of the crewmembers have fallen in the onslaught. They were not half-as-well trained as the Skullstone soldiers, nor as well armored. The Captain has not fallen, though he has a bloody wound in one side. The man looks at Lera, as the firestorm ends, and nods to her. She looks back at him, before she slumps against one of the ship's walls. Sweat runs down her face. "Nnh..." she grunts. "That... was difficult. I am surprised, but pleased, that it worked."
The Captain nods. "Aye, milady. We lost many of our boys... we'll have to make for the nearest port."
"Of course. But, first..." She looks at the flaming wreckage - tons of wood, still on fire, with the bodies of Skullstone men and likely Crimson Dawn in it. She scowls at it, and straightens her chin. Some of that famed Dynast hubris and pride seeps into her. She almost sneers, when she speaks in a cold tone. "Push that into the sea."
"Aye aye, milady," the Captain says. He barks his orders - and the crew does as they're told, putting ropes out at the burning mass... and then, with one great sweep, throwing it overboard and into the ocean waters.
Annnnd, as the debris is pushed off to sea, a dark shape is in the midst of it. There is a loud 'CHUK' noise from the prow of the ship. And then another. And another. Until finally, they stop. One might wonder what they are.
Still, closer inspection will reveal only a number of large divots torn out of the ship's prow. Possibly just battle damage, or an overly curious siaka, maybe.
However, as the privateer limps away, damaged as well, there's a figure standing on the back of it.
It's a figure in a black cloak. There are two swords at it's back.
And, echoing out over the oceans...
"Hah...hahhahahahahHhahahHahHahHahHAhHAhHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Gradually, some time after the Skullstone privateer has dissapeared back into the mists, that laughter stops.
When: Sunday, March 2, 2008 (Continued on March 6, 2008)
Where: The West, Creation, on BOATS
What: Cathak Lera was searching, unsuccessfully, for one-eyed warstriders. Unfortunately, someone else was looking for her.
Watch For: Family Reunions, Epic Kung Fu Action, Lera Forgetting Rule One Of Disposing Of Evil Anime Villians
GateMUSH - Sunday, March 02, 2008, 6:24 PM
The Realm warship Wisely Rendered Wayfarer is en route through the West, following after a ship. A supposed First Age vessel, which supposedly had several strange Warstriders with it. The Wayfarer ultimately found nothing; however, as it returned from the outer fringes of the West, a crew of soldiers were picked up. Lera stands on the vessel, now, a hand resting on the railing of the ship. She frowns a little.
She is the sole Dragon-Blooded aboard. The captain of the ship stands behind her, worry and awe in both of his eyes. He looks at her back. "Milady," he says, with a frown. "Are you satisfied?"
Lera smiles, a little, at his nervousness. "Of course, sir."
It really is amazing how much information is to be found in Creation, if one is at least a little bit creative looking for it. It hardly even required any supernatural chicanery to find the mission of the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer. A friendly gentleman in a pub buying an extra round for a sailor back on the blessed isle, a few casual comments from that gentleman to another on the price of salt in the West, and information slowly filters backwards into someone's hands.
In this case, that hand belonged to Seven-Fold Scorpion, a subordinate of the Bringer of Darkness in the Crimson Dawn, and a ship was prepped and launched.
The West is a dangerous place, after all. There are places where small shadowlands mark communities wiped out in the aftermath of the Usurpation. And it is from one of these, concealed in a bank of mist, that a sleek, menacing shape makes itself known to the immeadiate area, a 'privateer' slashing out on an intercept course for the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer.
While the ship is ominously silent, there being little, if any, chatter between the crew, the lookouts, once they catch sight of the sleek privateer, will take note of two things. The first is that the ship's flag is a simple, flat black, with a crimson handprint on it. The other is a figure calmly standing on top of the figurehead, cloak billowing behind it as the privateer silently begins to close on the Realm warship, flat red eyes locked on the ship.
It appears that while the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer has failed to find it's prey, there's a chance it may become someone else's prey this day!
"We have something," the man on the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer's crow's nest shouts. The man grits his teeth, before he points towards it. "To the north-northwest!"
The Captain turns. Lera does likewise; as her eyes spy the flag, they widen just a little. She shakes her head, then, and then looks away from the ship and back to the Captain. One hand falls to the sword at her side, and she nods her head - wishing she knew more of sailing. She was not admiral material.
"Make haste," she commands. "I doubt that vessel means us well."
The Captain grimaces. "Full sails! Put your backs to the oars!" The sails unfurl more, filling with wind - and the oars pick it up, moving quicker.
The privateer responds in kind as the oars are run out by its prey. Sails billow, and there is a rattling noise, and racks of oars are run out, a splash echoing as they hit the water. The figure on the prow of the ship simply raises a hand, then points towards the Wisely Rendered Wayfarer. In unison, the oars being to row, moving as smoothly and mechanically as if a machine were pushing them, not flesh and sinew. Alas, that is one thing that makes privateers operating out of Skullstone so dangerous, after all, as it is relatively cheap to hire the labor of the dead, and undead rowers feel no pain and know no fatigue.
Aboard ship, Crimson Dawn nods in satisfaction, turning slightly and making a gesture to a person standing at attention behind him.
"Bring us close. Then prepare for boarding. No survivors."
The pirate nods quickly, looking, perhaps, just a /bit/ nervous at the Deathknight's presence even as Crimson Dawn turns back to his vigil, eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation of the coming hunt.
The Wayfarer doesn't stay ahead for long. Despite the wind coming across the ship's bow, it was made for transporting troops and war material. It is caught up with quickly, causing Lera to scowl. This part, the woman can handle; she draws both of her daiklaves, and looks at the ship's crew. She lacks the time for them to listen to the Captain, through her. She frowns.
"Prepare for boarding!" she shouts, before looking at the crewmen drawing arrows. She nods her head.
"Draw and fire!" The men lift their bows up - and loose their arrows, sending them raining down towards the crewmembers of the Skullstone boat.
My! An extremely effective volley indeed! The arrows arc up, landing and peppering the deck of the privateer with arrows, skewering many of the crew.
Unfortunately, many of them simply get right back up again, going about their tasks heedless of the arrows jutting through torsos and limbs. Well, not all of them. There are casualties, of course. Some of the crew, frankly, are dead and not moving at all. The privateer, however, keeps on coming, the boarding troops silently lining the rails of the ship. Black armor, black shields, and gleaming weapons are in quantity, and the Deathknight calmly turns, nodding at a lieutenant.
"Return fire."
Annnd, with that, an answering volley is sent hissing across the water towards the Realm warship.
Lera grits her teeth; she sees several arrows come in, and swings her sword - the left one neatly slashes an arrow in half that comes at her. He scowls, seeing the warriors who are lined up to meet them. Skullstone, she thinks, angrily. And to make it worse, she recognizes their leader.
The Bringer of Darkness in the Crimson Dawn. She scowls further, and then looks at the Captain. An idea comes to her, suddenly, and she acts on it. "DROP ANCHOR!" she shouts. "Don't question it," she roars, "just do it!"
"I... very well! Drop anchor!" the Captain echoes. As crew men draw their swords and axes, preparing for the boarders, one lets a chain loose - and it goes descending down. The anchor splashes into the seas, before it crashes further and further downward. It hits the seabed below, and then the ship yanks forward. The chain groans, metal scraping against metal.
And then the shop stops - and the fast moving privateer promises to ram right into it.
See, a normal captain would take actions to dodge this.
Crimson Dawn is not normal.
Crimson Dawn is also /completely freaking nuts/.
Annnnd, as such, is just standing on top of the ship's figure head, arms crossed over his chest, watching with a clinical disinterest as the privateer's prow slams straight into the Realm Warship with a mighty crash, jostling crew on both ships.
Crimson Dawn, however, has simply transferred his perch, standing on the Realm ship's railing, eyes just /staring/ at
Lera, even as his boarders (Well, the survivors. Some were hit by debris or knocked overboard, naturally) let fly with grapnels and begin to swarm over.
Crimson Dawn, however, ignores everyone else, just /staring/ at Lera, a slight smile on his face.
"Hello, Cousin."
Course, he hasnt' drawn the pair of daiklaives at his hips, but, well, that hardly makes him harmless, neh?
The boarders are met by the charging crewmen. They had been better prepared; they lunge, and some chop at grappling hooks as they see them coming downward. The blades also come down at helmets and faces, while swords are stabbed hurriedly at others. But, some make it over. Crewmen fall; blood shoots out, limbs chopped and thrown over the battlefield. The Captain draws his sword, and grits his teeth.
"FOR THE REALM!" he shouts, as he charges forward.
Lera's green eyes narrow; she fights back her nervousness and fear. She then shakes it off, and lunges forward. Her two blades are drawn. "Good evening, cousin!" she snaps at him - and stabs the left daiklave for Dawn's chest, before following with a slash from her right sword.
The boarding party is nothing if not persistent. Arrows, debris, and now virtous Realm sailors and soldiers, and yet, they still keep coming. The boarders quickly form a knot as the survivors who make the gauntlet of the defenders begin to form up and grow, wickedly edged swords hacking into their enemies, even as boarders are cut down. Course, as the earlier arrow volley attested, not all of the boarders are technically alive, some of them staggering to their feet with 'fatal' wounds and lunging back into the fray. Others are left crumpled on the deck of the ship, their blood mixing with that of the Realm's brave crew, but those still standing keep finding with grim determination. After all, what does it matter if they die, if they are promised a better unlife?
As for Crimson Dawn, the deathknight smirks at Lera's charge, almost casually drawing a daiklaive so that it's vertically parallel to his body, parrying the first stab, then flipping the blade and locking it against the right hand slash. His other daiklaive is drawn then, aiming an almost casual slice for Lera's face, those dead red eyes still locked on her face, along with that small, almost insulting smile.
The left sword in Lera's hand swings around - and their blades meet with an impressive clang. She holds it there, for a moment, pushing against the two swords. He is stronger, she thinks; that worries Lera, and what worries her more is that she may not have speed on her side. As such, after a moment, she pushes back - freeing herself from the parry and skidding over the wooden deck of the ship.
Her teeth clench together, as she looks at him balefully. "What are you doing out here?" she snaps, as she focuses her essence. There is a brief red flash, before a bolt of flame leaves her sword with a smooth flash - and hurtles towards the Deathknight.
And that bolt of blame is met by a daiklaive's blade, and batted aside. It happens to incinerate a boarder. Crimson Dawn is indifferent.
The Abyssal smiles, casually twirling a daiklaive in one hand.
"I just simply wanted to say hello to my /dear/ little cousin. After all, I never managed to congratulate you on graduating from the House of Bells. Although, it /was/ a rather nice ceremony."
And, with that, the Deathknight dashes forwards, both blades trailing behind him, slicing a thin, blade-wide trench through the wood as he brings both swords up in a crossing stroke, spinning from the momentum, cloak trailing behind him as he lands in a guard position. Still smiling. Still dead-eyed.
"Oh, were you there? Or were you thinking of your own?" Lera snaps at him. She leaps at him, meeting his left sword with her right. The two Daiklaves strike together in a shower of sparks. The tall girl's eyes narrow, as she looks at his dead eyes and his cold smile - and then she feels the right one slash into her side, biting through armor and drawing blood. The girl hisses, before she moves forward.
She tries to check her shoulder into his solar plexus, to start. That is followed, hastily, by sweeping up her own left sword. The cold jade of the weapon flashes in the air, as she tries to slice neatly into the Deathknight's side.
That smile is still there. Even as the edge of jade slides smoothly along an arm, a few droplets of dark blood spattering onto the deck. Even as he smiles, reversing both blades so their pommels are up, as he attempts to clap them both to the sides of Lera's head, then kicking backwards to avoid retaliation as he continues to calmly talk, even over the chaos and sounds of blades parrying.
"Both, really. Yours wasn't too bad, but the class wasn't as large as it could be. Attrition is /such/ a problem for the Realm these days, isn't it? So, I see your superiors are still rewarding talent with stupidity and posting you to such a dead-end and dangerous job, hmmm? I mean, if the Lintha, Fair Folk, and pirates don't get you, there's always a chance I will~"
"What would it matter?" Lera snaps at him. "I see potential in the work - and no one has ever gotten /truly/ far without hardship to stand in their way. It's what we Exalts were bred for!" the woman says, eyes narrowing. Then, though, the pommels hit her head. This causes her to stumble, stunned for a moment. She gets kicked backward, and almost falls over.
Instead, she pushes a hand off the deck and turns, rolling her feet around to come up standing. She frowns, and looks up, at the Deathknight. There is a pause there, as she gets back to a balanced position - one he could use.
Crimson Dawn snorts derisively.
"/Bred/ for? Please, dear, at least /try/ to sound like you're better than some disgusting little beastman bred for war. I'd certainly hope the Relatives raised you better. That reminds me, how are you parents?"
The Abyssal, while still talking, calmly paces forwards, then blurs forwards with his daiklaives out and ready, one aimed high for the throat, the other aimed low for her belly.
"Your father stopped that affair he was having with that Cynis's gardener, right?"
Lera desperately moves to block the strikes. One sword hits the blade coming high for her throat - and bats it aside, with a loud ring of metal upon metal. She hisses softly, as the sword still comes near her. The second blade meets his sword before it can hit her side, and pushes it away. Her green eyes narrow, angrily. "My parents' affairs... are none of your concern!"
She realizes that she is in a bad spot; parrying with little out for offense. It comes to her; the left blade is flung aside, throwing his further back, and lands tip-first in the wooden plate. Then, a sword of flame forms in her hands. Lera lets out a shout, and lunges - stabbing that fiery sword right for his stomach!
The Abyssal hmmmms at that response, even as the sword's batted aside...and then, heyooooo! Flame On! Huh!
Crimson Dawn sidesteps the flaming sword, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he can /feel/ a burn from the near miss. A minor one, to be sure, but still. Hmmm.
"...So, I take it that means that he's still seeing the gardener, then. Ah well. Would explain why you've survived, I suppose. Whatever."
Annnd, with that, Crimson Dawn calmly makes a pair of simple slashes, then flips backwards, flinging both daiklaives straight towards Lera. Disarmed?!
Hardly. Chains whip out from his sleeves a moment later, snagging the blades by the hilt and attempting to whip them back to his hands. If they hit, great. If not, well, he's sure it'll be disconcerting.
"Also, I'm really quite dissapointed, my dear. I mean, here you fall into an obvious, if not well-executed guard stance, inviting an attack, and then you pull out that whole flaming sword gimmick. Very tacky, you know."
The blades that come flying at Lera are, to say the least, disconcerting. However, they are dodged - she moves to the left of one, letting the weapon sail under her arm, and then ducks a little as she runs. The sword goes right over her, as her other hand comes down and grabs the blade she left in the ship deck. She leaps, then, gritting her teeth together. "It is a common Charm of the Dragon-Blooded!"
Her left sword comes down again - but instead of striking him it explodes with sparks right in front of the Abyssal's face. This is so, when she lands, she can /pivot/ - and that swings her right daiklave straight for the man's stomach.
Well, really, Crimson Dawn is hardly /just/ a man anymore. Still, as the flashy burst of fire goes off, the Abyssal blinks, a bit disoriented as Lera makes to gut him like a fish. Crimson Dawn is highly distracted, and off guard!
And that's why he loves reflexive charms.
A minute burst of essence crackles around him, hardening into a shell, even as he rolls to the side. As such, instead of being horribly gutted and bleeding his little black heart out on the deck as the daiklaive cleaves through armor, skin, and bone, he gets a long, annoying cut along his stomach.
Granted, it's bleeding. But the Abyssal frowns, looking down at it, and then casually looks up at Lera.
"...Now, that's just /cheating/."
Note that he doesn't sound dissapointed, even as he charges right back at Lera, having only snapped up a single daiklaive, the other lazily slipping up a chain length towards his hand. Still, the reason for having a free hand becomes evident as, after a quick pair of strikes to slap her blades out of the way, he simply attempts his oldest and favoritest combat maneuver: The Face-Grab-And-Floor-Slam, followed by a kick and some mocking laughter!
Mind, even if he misses, there will probably be mocking laughter. It's just how he is!
"Ghh!" Lera snorts, angrily, as she gets her blades batted aside - and then has her head slammed down into the deck of the ship. It gives her a bloody nose, and promptly; she spits blood out, and grunts, before she considers her position for a very brief moment - being brought low on a ship like this leaves her at a crucial disadvantage. She decides to take advantage of it, to try to turn the tables.
She doesn't aim for sweeping her feet around; that would just put him down on the floor and leave him able to hurt her. Instead, one hand flashes out, quick as lightning. In that hand is her green jade Daiklave, Morning Glory.
She sweeps that sword out, hard, for Crimson Dawn's Achilles' Tendon.
Yes, well, Crimson Dawn is a bit busy chortling at her predicament. Really, for being an undead deathknight of unspeakable evil, he's a bit...petty. That, or very, very confident. Either or. As for the Achilles' Tendon strike, the daiklaive slaps into something just a bit tougher than flesh or bone. Somewhere between 'face-slam' and 'taunting laughter', a tendril of soulsteel chain had spiked itself into the deck, vertically, forming a barrier that catches the daiklaive's incapacitating strike, turning it aside by a whisker's edge, leaving a narrow gouge along Crimson Dawn's foot.
Course, while Crimson Dawn just stands there, smiling cheerfully, a multitude of the chains slither up his back, waving back and forth behind his shoulders before the host of a half dozen or so of the chains go stabbing at her.
"Hmmmm. Better, better. At least you're /trying/ to fight dirty."
Lera's eyes go wide, as she stares at the chains coming down at her. She finds herself with no other option; flame erupts from around her, making the floor blacken instantly. Both of her swords suddenly lash out, in flashes of red flame that trail after her. The blades meet each chain, perfectly - deflecting them with showers of sparks and neatly moving them away. As the last of the chains is knocked away, she lunges forward.
She has a scowl on her face; she isn't enjoying this. "Fighting dirty? Hardly! This is not an honor duel!"
She strikes again - this time, a low stab aimed at his abdomen, with the daiklave in her left hand.
And Crimson Dawn moves, twisting slightly, and slams a foot down on the top of the incoming Daiklaive, sending it juddering straight down into the deck. The chains finally snap his second daiklaive back into his right hand, and he strikes out with it, aiming for her other daiklaive. As for his own secondary daiklaive, the abyssal slams it around, attempting a vicious slice aimed right for Lera's belly, using the momentum of the cut to roll away, getting a bit of distance as he smirks at his cousin.
"And yet, sometimes, your idiotic kin /try/ to treat it as one. Sheesh."
Lera's right daiklave gets batted to the side by Dawn's, and her left one is stepped on midstab. She sees the sword in his other hand coming for her stomach, and knows that brings the promise of death with it, should he strike. She sucks in a breath, and as he steps on her daiklave, bringing it to the deck, the Dynast kicks off it.
As a result, she somersaults - kicking her feet into the air, over his sword, and right for his face. She tries to kick into him, before slamming her feet down to the ground and coming back up standing.
Impressive. Despite himself, Crimson Dawn really is impressed. Sniff. If he had tear glands left, he'd be shedding a tear of pride at how much his little cousin has grown up!
Instead, he simply leans backwards as the kick comes screaming in for his precious face, landing on his back and laughing as he rolls backwards, smoothly coming up on his feet a good few yards away from her.
"Not bad, not bad! You're actually becoming a /threat/, cousin!"
And, still smiling amiably, he then launches a bolt of necrotic essence at her face.
Crypt Bolts, yo.
The Crypt Bolt slams into Lera, throwing her backward. Some of her essence is drained away in that moment, and she is sent rolling across the deck floor. She hacks, before she comes up kneeling - and then stands up again, shaking herself out. He is still stronger than her, Lera thinks with no small amount of annoyance. She would need to think of something, before he killed her.
She grits her teeth, looking around for a moment, until it occurs to her - the thing that is right behind her. It would be risky, but she could manage.
She looks back at him, and then swings both blades out in front her - and sends off a blazing fiery bolt, right for him.
The Abyssal blinks as the firebolt comes roaring down deck to him, frowning slightly as he murmurs.
"Too big to dodge..."
Shrugging, the Abyssal brings both blades up, crossing them as he attempts to catch the fire bolt, his own essence flaring as the hungry daiklaives devour the essence construct with a 'bang', the Abyssal a bit singed from the aftermath.
"And if I cannot dodge, I will block! PREPARE YOURSELF FOR OBLIVION, COUSIN!"
It appears that Crimson Dawn is finished playing, as he's charging Lera, both swords out and hungry. Whatever her plan is, it had better be a doozy.
Lera sucks in a breath. This is it, the young woman thinks. Do or die time - he has murder in his eyes, and she doesn't trust him to turn this into another game. Sooner or later, he would want her dead. She makes her decision, then, and waits for just a moment longer, looking ready to meet him and parry his blows. She sucks in a deep breath, as she takes a dagger off her belt.
She throws it - a graceful throw, which may seem to be a stopping measure. It is, in all truth, a feint; the blade ignites with flame after a moment, as it flies at him. She turns once he has that to deal with, and swings her right daiklave hard. The blade rips into the mast of the ship behind her, splitting it down the middle. Wood shoots out in long splinters, chunks of it and of sawdust flying out in a wave. The mast begins to topple.
Which is when Lera leaps. She twists, kicking it hard - and sends it flying off towards Crimson Dawn, with sudden speed and fury. She ends by drawing out her left daiklave again, and striking it just as it goes flying away.
The mast cracks down the middle, splitting into numerous long spears of wood that catch fire in an instant - a veritable firestorm of wooden shards, spreading out in an immense arc in front of her.
Crimson Dawn's mad charge is checked, the Abyssal blinking as he watches the mast start to topple.
"...Oh, you clever little bi-"
And then that's when the mast shatters and cracks, with Crimson Dawn at ground zero. The massive firestorm catches Abyssal, burying him in the flames, even as the shards of wood continue onwards, ripping through his troops and blasting the majority of the raiding party into oblivion.
Disheartened, the privateer begins to pull away. After all, they just watched THEIR (Technically) exalt get pasted by the Realm's Exalt! Like hell they're going to stick around so she can toast THEIR ship too.
Many of the crewmembers have fallen in the onslaught. They were not half-as-well trained as the Skullstone soldiers, nor as well armored. The Captain has not fallen, though he has a bloody wound in one side. The man looks at Lera, as the firestorm ends, and nods to her. She looks back at him, before she slumps against one of the ship's walls. Sweat runs down her face. "Nnh..." she grunts. "That... was difficult. I am surprised, but pleased, that it worked."
The Captain nods. "Aye, milady. We lost many of our boys... we'll have to make for the nearest port."
"Of course. But, first..." She looks at the flaming wreckage - tons of wood, still on fire, with the bodies of Skullstone men and likely Crimson Dawn in it. She scowls at it, and straightens her chin. Some of that famed Dynast hubris and pride seeps into her. She almost sneers, when she speaks in a cold tone. "Push that into the sea."
"Aye aye, milady," the Captain says. He barks his orders - and the crew does as they're told, putting ropes out at the burning mass... and then, with one great sweep, throwing it overboard and into the ocean waters.
Annnnd, as the debris is pushed off to sea, a dark shape is in the midst of it. There is a loud 'CHUK' noise from the prow of the ship. And then another. And another. Until finally, they stop. One might wonder what they are.
Still, closer inspection will reveal only a number of large divots torn out of the ship's prow. Possibly just battle damage, or an overly curious siaka, maybe.
However, as the privateer limps away, damaged as well, there's a figure standing on the back of it.
It's a figure in a black cloak. There are two swords at it's back.
And, echoing out over the oceans...
"Hah...hahhahahahahHhahahHahHahHahHAhHAhHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Gradually, some time after the Skullstone privateer has dissapeared back into the mists, that laughter stops.