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Woodstovia
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Posts: 8360
Founded: Nov 01, 2012
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Postby Woodstovia » Tue Mar 12, 2019 10:37 pm

Florian in his nervousness had continued pleading.

“-You can tie me up or bind my hands or do whatever you must to set your mind at ease, I promise I’m-...” he stopped when he realized what Alexei’s words actually meant. “Oh I mean thank you so much...” that went better than expected he thought. He was set down and took the halberd though it looked too big for him, he seemed to have never seen one before and he could barely even lift the thing.

“I am untrained but I’ll try and defend you if things start getting out of hand and every warm body in your favour could be helpful. I am one of those at least.” He chuckled, the laughter stopped when Eric started speaking though.

Florian turned pale.

“I’m flattered I suppose but... I didn’t mean... I’m not...” he couldn’t find the words and thankfully Eric began concentrating on the nearby pirates instead of pushing the issue any further. To absolve the deep feelings of shame washing over him Florian decided to turn to what always gave him comfort: copious amounts of paperwork!

“Uhh you’re Alexei right?” He said, fishing his satchel out of the boat and picking out a large file “let’s see here.... ah! Alexei Petrov am I correct?” He was as pleasant and charming as ever, trying to make sure Alexei didn’t freak out over the fact he had been observed. “Hmm this is thorough, it says here you’re not an elemental so I wonder why- Oh. You were stealing things. Consorting with elementals, disturbing the peace, actively promoting un-federation thoughts? Multiply that by the tax of being a foreigner and I could easily see them locking you up.” He said with a small laugh.
Last edited by Woodstovia on Tue Mar 12, 2019 10:47 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Constaniana
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 25004
Founded: Mar 10, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Wed Mar 13, 2019 2:15 am

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Before he could say any more, however, he saw one of the Watchtower guards approaching out the corner of his eye. With a scowl, Tristan turned to face him just in time to block an overhead slash with Fenrirtusk's shaft.

"Your friends in Yuelkelu send their regards." The white-haired man said with a scoff.

"They shall be avenged!" the cultist snarled through his helmet, bringing his sword back for another few swings at the Ice Elemental.

"No, they won't!" Lisoette insisted, slapping him on the back and sending a surge of electricity coursing through his metal armour. Her target crumpled to the deck, and she turned to the face the last remaining armoured Watchtower trooper, who was parrying Aerion's attacks. The roar of the swivel gun surprised the trooper, and Lis zapped him as well.

Captain Gerard Andreus had been trying to direct his subordinate's attacks, but maintaining cohesion had failed with all the rowdy pirates thrown into the mix, and that oaf Bloody Bart trying to give orders of his own in between pistol shots. Bloody Bart turned to the side to yell some warning to one of his brigands, at which point the Watchtower officer spotted Everard pointing his pistol at him. He laughed for a split second before he noticed the swivel gun was also pointed his way. And all Gerard had time to do with the rest of his life was a scream of pain as his vital organs were punched through by the grapeshot. The three armoured cultists that had been trampled by Catrin were also finished off by the barrage.

Bloody Bart could hardly believe his eyes as he looked around the deck of the ship, trying to see if any more of his men were still in fighting shape. Even those creepy atheists that had invited themselves aboard would have been acceptable, but to his great surprise and dismay it looked as if he was the only one left. He hadn't been quite as shredded as Gerard was, but it was still enough to seriously hamper him. The pirate struggled to his feet, trying not to lean on his cutlass too heavily so as not to break it.

"By the ship's barnacles, you lot can fight. I suppose I have no choice but to surrender. Either you'll kill me for sure, or Captain Francesca probably kills me for losing the ship," said Bloody Bart. Before anyone could respond to his offer the air was filled with screeching again, as three more foul, 8-foot tall owls swooped in. One grabbed the bloodied body of the claw-girl and began flying away with it. One dove at the largest target, Catrin, and the other went for tired Ke'Am.
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Reverend Norv
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New York Times Democracy

Postby Reverend Norv » Wed Mar 13, 2019 8:22 am

Ev Mallow shook his head vigorously, like a wet dog, presumably trying to clear the ringing echo of the swivel gun's roar from his ears. Around the belowdecks door, blood lay pooled a finger's-breadth deep, and fat punctures pockmarked the ship's fo'c'sle as densely as chicken-pox scars. With practiced, only half-conscious movements, the colonel swiftly reloaded his pistol, then scooped up his carbine from the deck and reloaded that weapon as well. He walked dispassionately among the dead, using one boot to nudge bodies riddled with grapeshot lest they show any lingering sign of life.

The sound of voices from behind him caught Ev's attention. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Alexei and Eric standing near Florian. The Northeman nodded curtly. "Good. You're both here. And with company, I see." Ev's tone conveyed only mild, clinical interest at Florian's appearance, though his grey-green eyes were watchful as they studied the young man's clothing.

"Now: where in Veridaelia's green earth has Erosen gotten to?" The colonel leaned out over the gunwhales and peered across the silent wharf. "We can't stay here, anyway. Alexei, start weighing anchor. Lady Katya, prepare us a wind. If the hellspawn is in the shadows somewhere out there, he'll know to come aboard when he sees the anchor start to come up."

Then Bloody Bart struggled to his feet. Ev turned, his carbine held loosely at the low ready, half-aimed at the pirate. When he took in Bart's obvious wounds, he relaxed slightly, and then nodded when the pirate offered his surrender. But before Ev could reply, a terrible screech rent the night air, and three massive, shaggy owls plunged out of the icy mist that covered the harbor. One snatched up the girl-monster's body, one descended on Catrin, and one plunged toward the strange man who had joined the group just before they attacked the ship.

There was not even a moment of hesitation in Ev's choice of his target. He turned his full attention toward the creature attacking Ke'Am, pulled his carbine into his shoulder, and sighed out half his breath. The doglock's barrel tracked in a smooth arc, and then it let out another hard crack, and the reek of black powder filled the deck yet again as the heavy ball sped unerringly toward its target.

Ev leaned his carbine against the gunwhale, and as he drew a wheellock pistol in each hand, he turned to Bloody Bart. "On behalf of the Driegdern Regiment of Horse, Albrasfont State Army," he told the pirate with serene formality, "I accept your surrender, and in accordance with the ancient laws and customs of war, I accord you the privilege of parole due an officer." Ev cocked his pistols. "It's time for you to get off this ship, captain."
Last edited by Reverend Norv on Wed Mar 13, 2019 9:49 am, edited 1 time in total.

For really, I think that the poorest he that is in England hath a life to live as the greatest he. And therefore truly, Sir, I think it's clear that every man that is to live under a Government ought first by his own consent to put himself under that Government. And I do think that the poorest man in England is not at all bound in a strict sense to that Government that he hath not had a voice to put himself under.
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Lazarian
Diplomat
 
Posts: 503
Founded: Jul 14, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Lazarian » Wed Mar 13, 2019 12:34 pm

ALEXEI

Woodstovia wrote:“Uhh you’re Alexei right?” He said, fishing his satchel out of the boat and picking out a large file “let’s see here.... ah! Alexei Petrov am I correct?” He was as pleasant and charming as ever, trying to make sure Alexei didn’t freak out over the fact he had been observed. “Hmm this is thorough, it says here you’re not an elemental so I wonder why- Oh. You were stealing things. Consorting with elementals, disturbing the peace, actively promoting un-federation thoughts? Multiply that by the tax of being a foreigner and I could easily see them locking you up.” He said with a small laugh.

Alexei's mind flashed with alarm for an instant - he hadn't told Florian his name, and yet the man knew it. Had Ivan told him about their group? That was rather uncharacteristic of Ivan. But once Florian pulled out the files, he relaxed, and was even rather relieved. Watchtower would likely be set back at the loss of those. And as Florian rattled off the list of "crimes", Alexei found himself nodding slightly. The pieces started to fall into place, and Florian's presence actually made sense - Ivan had probably mentioned him and Katya, and Florian was smart enough to figure out from his resources at Watchtower that they would flee the city soon. How the two had made contact in the first place was uncertain - perhaps he wasn't just some stuffy bureaucrat.

"Hmm, that all sounds about right. Asides from stealing, anyways. I'm no thief." Alexei grunted, blinking black spots from his eyes. He certainly had consorted with "elementals", and was indeed part of the scene at the plaza just yesterday. As for stealing things, that hadn't been his doing, necessarily...but it had gone on under his silent approval. Well, not necessarily approval, but to tolerate such a thing was indeed, in an indirect way, an approval. As for actively promoting un-federation thoughts...well, he had spoken quite proudly of Garmiccia many times when drunk. Although, even if he hadn't been three ales in, it was unlikely he would take any of what he had said back, of course.

He had hoped that his little group of travelers had remained under the radar, but they clearly hadn't. If they had stayed for much longer, it was likely that Watchtower would have swept down on them next - and without all these newfound friends on their side. Perhaps Katya's theory about the gods delivering them had more weight than he was willing to admit.
Reverend Norv wrote:The sound of voices from behind him caught Ev's attention. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw Alexei and Eric standing near Florian. The Northeman nodded curtly. "Good. You're both here. And with company, I see." Ev's tone conveyed only mild, clinical interest at Florian's appearance, though his grey-green eyes were watchful as they studied the young man's clothing.

"Now: where in Veridaelia's green earth has Erosen gotten to?" The colonel leaned out over the gunwhales and peered across the silent wharf. "We can't stay here, anyway. Alexei, start weighing anchor. Lady Katya, prepare us a wind. If the hellspawn is in the shadows somewhere out there, he'll know to come aboard when he sees the anchor start to come up."

"Aye." rumbled Alexei, nodding at Colonel Mallow. It seemed that the Colonel had lived up to his promise. By some miracle, the majority of their crew seemed relatively uninjured, and they all were indeed onboard the ship in one piece. The battle had gone remarkably in their favor. It appeared that the cannon thundering had not been the pirates turning on the boarders, but a quick move from Ev. Nearby, Aerion stood, panting and sweating heavily, looking for another opponent to slaughter. He didn't look so pretty now, to Alexei's surprise - his eyes spoke of madness and rage, and Alexei shuddered slightly at the sight. It was one thing for a normal soldier to go berserk, but for an spellborn to do so was truly something to be feared. The bodies of four pirates strewn across the deck painted a vivid picture of Aerion's capabilities, with frozen limbs and dead eyes splayed on the ground. Blood was splattered across the wooden planks, effectively demonstrating the incredible strength of the blows that had been inflicted.

"Katya, this the company you choose to keep?" he thought to himself, worried.

They'd talk about that later. For now, he had his duty to do. Quickly, he strode over towards the capstan, placing the thick wooden handles into the slots where they belonged. There were six of them, and he realized that for a ship as large as this, for a single man to raise the anchor would be an impossibility. He shoved against it, throwing his exhausted and abused body onto the pole. It barely budged. Ivan joined him, and they both strained against it. It still barely moved.

Suddenly, a hideous screech filled the air, and he whipped around, hand clutching his axe tightly. Three enormous creatures, like the twisted vulture from earlier, swooped in. They had jagged and long beaks, with sharp teeth inside, and their eyes merged pupil and retina in a twisted visage, giving them a repulsive appearance. The creatures were taller than him, towering above the group in size. One dove at the spider creature, one grabbed the body of a...woman of some sort, and the third charged at the savage man, claws extended.

Damn it. There was no time to be manually raising this anchor. This was a process that required too many men, and would take entirely too long, even if they did have the muscle necessary to raise the anchor. If they waited any longer, more of Watchtower's strange monsters would be after them, and now that Eric was back, the pirates would likely catch on as well. Raising his axe above his head with both hands, he swung down with brutal force. Striking once, twice, thrice, the cable finally split in two, with the end of the rope attached to the anchor limply falling to the ground. Yes, it'd be a problem later, but if they didn't leave now, there wouldn't be a later to worry about in the first place.

Gods, he was so tired. His injuries from earlier in the day screamed in agony, and it felt like every muscle in his body cramped and strained just for him to remain standing. From the battle earlier today, combined with the run to the ship and the swimming to the pinnace...it was all too much. He felt extremely lightheaded and nauseous, and slumping against the capstan, vomiting up the biscuits he had eaten for dinner onto the ground. Stumbling forwards, he fought to keep his eyes open - and failed, falling to his knees and then forwards, hitting the deck with a dull thud.


KATYA



As the last pirate onboard (asides from the captain) dove into the waters below, choosing to keep his life over fighting the frenzied Ice Elemental, Katya sighed in relief. Trembling, she lowered her hands, taking a deep breath. As she looked over the deck, seeing the bodies of the unfortunate cultists and pirates, she gagged in disgust and shock, bile rising in her throat. It wasn't as if she was squeamish - she had gone on hunts with her father before their relationship had soured, and those were grisly. But to be involved in such violence was a new and horrid experience. A duel was a neat and orderly contest of skill - and this battle was more like a disorderly bar brawl.

Looking over, she saw Alexei standing over near Everard, with Ivan, Eric, and a stranger. Had he brought a new traveler with him? It wouldn't be too surprising - after all, Lady Fumiko was a surprise, as was the strange savage man with the odd nose indent. All these strange people were fleeing the city like rats fleeing a sinking ship. She supposed that she belonged among them now. Elementals, inhumans, and vagabonds. Not the worst group for her mission, in all honesty.

"Now: where in Veridaelia's green earth has Erosen gotten to?" The colonel leaned out over the gunwhales and peered across the silent wharf. "We can't stay here, anyway. Alexei, start weighing anchor. Lady Katya, prepare us a wind. If the hellspawn is in the shadows somewhere out there, he'll know to come aboard when he sees the anchor start to come up."

"Yessir!" she said excitedly. This was it! They would finally be on their way!

Suddenly, her excitement was dashed by the arrival of those horrid owls. As the crew sprang to action, she realized that battle wasn't over yet, by any means. And the longer they stayed in the harbor or the range of the city, the more enemies they'd have to contend with. These creatures were obviously employed by Watchtower - she didn't know much about the organization, but the fear in Alexei's words about them spoke enough for her to know that they weren't people she wanted to find more about. Shaking with adrenaline, she rushed towards the raised quarterdeck of the ship and up the stairs, before standing in approximately the center. The winds she had conjured earlier wouldn't be nearly enough to get them out of here quickly. Moving a ship this large at a quick speed was a demanding task - something that required more than just a few prayers and thoughts.

Thankfully, that was what the book was for. Opening the heavy tome, she placed it on the ground and sat down. There was no table of contents, tragically, but she knew it was in here. Flipping through the worn pages urgently, she looked frantically for the spell that she needed. Damn it, it was in here somewhere! The first half of the book was dedicated to the King of the Gods, Pryastar, but there was a section for her in here. While Aewillia was by no means the most important of the gods, she wasn't a minor one like Boaltist or Skadillia. Ah! There it was! Her heart quickened, and she slowed down, reading the title of each page. Each page contained a collection of diagrams and words, directing movements and chant for more complicated spells. The book was certainly before her time, and written in older Garmiccian, so it was a little unclear in places, but for the most part it was understandable. It was probably the most important thing that she owned - a last gift from her father. Well, hardly a gift - she had stolen it as a last act of rebellion.

"Aewillia's Blessed Blade...Cutting Winds...Aewillia's Tears...Aewillia's Wings...Greater Levitation..." she mumbled eagerly, flipping from page to page. These were all more complicated spells - even older spellborn who had mastered their gifts would have trouble with some of these. But, as her father had always said - when backed to the wall, you do what you must.

"Aewillia's Haste." she whispered, stopping her search. There it was.

"This spell is used for the quick transport of ships..." she read to herself, skipping past the section's further details, "requires several minutes of preparation...", "not recommended for novices...", "blood sacrifice..."

She paused, realizing the depth of her error. On the page was a complicated diagram which would need to be etched into a surface before casting. It would be painted, drawn, or marked, but for the spell to work, it would have to be made. The caster would need to stand in the middle, speaking the chant of the divine rite, and complete the necessary physical motions. While standing in the center, the spell would tear away at the caster's strength until they stepped out, ending the spell. As she read through the page, she sharply inhaled, shook by the words that stood before her.

"For optimal results upon casting," the book read matter-of-factly, "paint in blood."

Blood magic was a touchy subject among Garmiccians. While the older pagans claimed that offering blood to the gods would increase the power of your arts, the newer Helreskaffish priests claimed that this was both false and heretical. That "offering blood" was nothing but an old tradition carried over from the ancient shamans that dominated Garmiccia's religious belief. Her father, though, stood by it...and as much as she detested him, he was nothing if not educated. Shaking, she drew her rapier from her side, holding the keen edge to her fingertips.

"Aewillia, give me strength!" she whispered, closing her eyes, and then drew her fingertips across the blade in a quick motion. It stung bitterly, and she clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out like a child. There was no time for hesitation. This would take a few minutes, and every second counted. As blood started dripping from her fingers, she started to paint.
ZEhKaGJuTWdjR1Z2Y0d4bElHRnlaU0JrYVhObmRYTjBhVzVuSUdGdVpDQnBJR2h2Y0dVZ2RHaGxlU0JuWlhRZ2JIbHVZMmhsWkNBN0tR

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Ameriganastan
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Founded: Jul 01, 2008
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Postby Ameriganastan » Wed Mar 13, 2019 2:14 pm

"Flying things. I hate fighting flying things. Wouldn't be an issue if I was any good with a bow. But no, you accidentally lobotomize one instructor and they forbid you from wielding one..."

"Quit whining you old woman. I'll handle it."

She sprung to Angelle form, unfurling her wings and grabbing two blades from the bodies of slain pirates.

"Stay here and handle things. I'll clip their wings."

She shot into the sky, leaving Eric to sit there.

"...I should really start carrying a second sword. My main one has made a nasty habit of flying off without me lately."

He scanned the ship, looking for something to occupy himself. He found two things.

"Okay, he appears to be unconscious and she's doing creepy magic stuff...let's deal with him first. Less hassle and less possibility of my soul being stolen."

He jogged over to Alexi, attempting to lift him up. That was a mistake. As the audible "POP!" sound his back produced made very clear. He fell in a heap right next to the guy.

"Okay, ow. Note to self: Don't try to lift giants. It hurts."
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Woodstovia
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Founded: Nov 01, 2012
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Postby Woodstovia » Wed Mar 13, 2019 3:12 pm

Lazarian wrote:
ALEXEI

Alexei's mind flashed with alarm for an instant - he hadn't told Florian his name, and yet the man knew it. Had Ivan told him about their group? That was rather uncharacteristic of Ivan. But once Florian pulled out the files, he relaxed, and was even rather relieved. Watchtower would likely be set back at the loss of those. And as Florian rattled off the list of "crimes", Alexei found himself nodding slightly. The pieces started to fall into place, and Florian's presence actually made sense - Ivan had probably mentioned him and Katya, and Florian was smart enough to figure out from his resources at Watchtower that they would flee the city soon. How the two had made contact in the first place was uncertain - perhaps he wasn't just some stuffy bureaucrat.

"Hmm, that all sounds about right. Asides from stealing, anyways. I'm no thief." Alexei grunted, blinking black spots from his eyes. He certainly had consorted with "elementals", and was indeed part of the scene at the plaza just yesterday. As for stealing things, that hadn't been his doing, necessarily...but it had gone on under his silent approval. Well, not necessarily approval, but to tolerate such a thing was indeed, in an indirect way, an approval. As for actively promoting un-federation thoughts...well, he had spoken quite proudly of Garmiccia many times when drunk. Although, even if he hadn't been three ales in, it was unlikely he would take any of what he had said back, of course.

He had hoped that his little group of travelers had remained under the radar, but they clearly hadn't. If they had stayed for much longer, it was likely that Watchtower would have swept down on them next - and without all these newfound friends on their side. Perhaps Katya's theory about the gods delivering them had more weight than he was willing to admit.


"Oh I never said you were a thief." he smiled "That's what they say you are but even then... Silence can tell you a lot you know. I've read a lot of these and whenever thievery is involved it swings two different ways. It's either a highly detailed report on what they stole, when, how much it's all worth, the identity of the owner of the goods or, like with yours it's blank, meaning they either made it up or someone you're close to stole and they wanted some more dirt on you so decided you must have been a co-conspirator as well."

"I wouldn't mind the whole anti-federation business. That's a vague one they use to brand any foreigners they aren't happy with. I was part of an investigation once - there was this really tight nit group we suspected were Elementals but they were secretive and too friendly to break up. One however was a Garmiccian, and well, I'm not a theologian but I've heard there's some difference between our church and yours on the nature of the Ice Goddess correct? Well he mentioned the difference in public and we grabbed him for it." he sighed, memories of the questioning flooding back. "That was somehow deemed enough to torture him and uncover the whole group..."

"But you don't have to worry! Your justice is in my hands now, not theirs." he smiled, slotting the paper back away into the file, he'd considered giving him the paper to do what he wanted but it was useful to study how the Watchtower operated and wrote about it's suspects.

Florian hauled the great halberd upright as he climbed back up onto the boat but he was disgusted by what he saw. Corpses and blood were strewn everywhere and in the center of it all sat a girl painting a ritualistic symbol in blood. He wretched and had to hold his mouth shut as he keeled over. The feeling of triumph at his integration into the group was flushing away.

Were the Watchtower right all along?

This group of Elementals certainly didn't look like heroes, but as his thoughts turned to fleeing three great beasts slammed down into the party.

The hell was all this?




Aerion looked bitterly disappointed as the battle wound down. The Watchtower and pirates hadn't been very worthy foes after all. Most were strong or quick but didn't seem particularly well trained. The pirates were probably used to robbing fat merchants and dispatching with mercenaries more interested in escaping with their lives than actually fighting. They weren't used to real soldiers, much less a hero like Aerion d'Autriche. He grimaced a little at his blade as the excitement of battle wore off. He loved the colours but blood was sticky and smelled bad. He'd need to wash everything all over again. He thought glumly, his bloodlust wafting away as the boy talked to the pirate leader.

"Surrender?!" he hissed incongruously. "And have more mouths in Carogne telling the Watchtower and local officials about a group of butchers stealing away a ship? There's no such thing as a surrender, you should know that. We'll hang him off the crow's nest before-"

Aerion was interrupted by fresh prey and quickly went back to work, diving at one of the foul beasts without a second thought, the one which was trying to drag away another of his targets. He wasn't letting anyone escape his wrath that easily. He drove his strikes at the feet of the thing, not exactly experienced at fighting giant owls. He hoped it'd just drop the girl and fly out of his life so he could fight a human, or at least what looked vaguely human instead of a dumb animal.

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Rupudska
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20293
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Rupudska » Wed Mar 13, 2019 5:06 pm

Constaniana wrote:"By the ship's barnacles, you lot can fight. I suppose I have no choice but to surrender. Either you'll kill me for sure, or Captain Francesca probably kills me for losing the ship," said Bloody Bart. Before anyone could respond to his offer the air was filled with screeching again, as three more foul, 8-foot tall owls swooped in. One grabbed the bloodied body of the claw-girl and began flying away with it. One dove at the largest target, Catrin, and the other went for tired Ke'Am.


Of course they were flying demons. Of course.

Catrin hated flying demons. Couldn't swing her fuck huge sword at them without potentially injuring herself. Goody for her that most of the people she could swing it at were dead, dying, or surrendered, so she let her massive vierhander drop to the floor so she could pull out her shield and falchion. These were more suited to killing things in the air, as she could swing her falchion overhead with zero risk of it smashing into her abdomen.

She linked its handle to her wrist with a bit of silk to keep it in her grip as she jumped into the air, swinging the smaller sword in a wide diagonal-downward arc. She didn't care if it killed the demon, there were enough allies here to take care of that if it failed. She just wanted it out of the air so that it'd be a fair fight.
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Lazarian
Diplomat
 
Posts: 503
Founded: Jul 14, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Lazarian » Wed Mar 13, 2019 6:13 pm

Woodstovia wrote:"Oh I never said you were a thief." he smiled "That's what they say you are but even then... Silence can tell you a lot you know. I've read a lot of these and whenever thievery is involved it swings two different ways. It's either a highly detailed report on what they stole, when, how much it's all worth, the identity of the owner of the goods or, like with yours it's blank, meaning they either made it up or someone you're close to stole and they wanted some more dirt on you so decided you must have been a co-conspirator as well."

"I wouldn't mind the whole anti-federation business. That's a vague one they use to brand any foreigners they aren't happy with. I was part of an investigation once - there was this really tight nit group we suspected were Elementals but they were secretive and too friendly to break up. One however was a Garmiccian, and well, I'm not a theologian but I've heard there's some difference between our church and yours on the nature of the Ice Goddess correct? Well he mentioned the difference in public and we grabbed him for it." he sighed, memories of the questioning flooding back. "That was somehow deemed enough to torture him and uncover the whole group..."

"But you don't have to worry! Your justice is in my hands now, not theirs." he smiled, slotting the paper back away into the file, he'd considered giving him the paper to do what he wanted but it was useful to study how the Watchtower operated and wrote about it's suspects.

Florian hauled the great halberd upright as he climbed back up onto the boat but he was disgusted by what he saw. Corpses and blood were strewn everywhere and in the center of it all sat a girl painting a ritualistic symbol in blood. He wretched and had to hold his mouth shut as he keeled over. The feeling of triumph at his integration into the group was flushing away.

Were the Watchtower right all along?

This group of Elementals certainly didn't look like heroes, but as his thoughts turned to fleeing three great beasts slammed down into the party.

The hell was all this?



IVAN



Ivan looked on as Florian excitedly talked at Alexei, only to be completely and totally ignored. Alexei seemed to be really out of it, barely aware of his surroundings at all. Water dripped off his soaked beard, and his eyes stared off into space, hardly alert at all. But at the Colonel's orders, he dashed off to the anchor with surprising speed, and got to work. Ivan looked over at Florian, who looked rather downcast at being ignored.

Pulling the younger man off to the side, he whispered into his ear. "Sorry, kid. That's the boss for you." he muttered, grinning slightly at Florian's misfortune. "But just for future, I vould not mention your experiences with Watchtower. Not going to make you any friends here. And great sale on the backstory. Had me believing it myself. Looks like we're in the clear, you and I."

In the distance, Ivan turned his head, hearing Alexei cursing at the capstan.

"Vell, I've got to go help with that, unfortunately. Make yourself useful somehow."

He dashed off, leaving Florian to stare dejectedly at the mess covering the decks. After a few seconds of pushing weakly on the capstan with Alexei, he watched blankly as Alexei collapsed to the ground. Well, that was unfortunate. Not really his problem though. Drawing his shortsword, he stood nearby, "guarding" his superior. That was story, anyways, if anyone came asking. In a few seconds, Eric jogged over to Alexi, attempting to lift him up, before falling in a heap right next to the guy.

"Okay, ow. Note to self: Don't try to lift giants. It hurts."

Ivan tried to muffle a laugh, before bending over and giving Eric a hand.

"Indeed, sir Lumen. Just leave him be." he chuckled, pulling the man up. "I'm Ivan. One of little miss Kuznetsov's guards." he continued, disdain coloring his voice at the mention of Katya. "We haven't met, but I've heard about you. Vould you mind helping me roll this giant oaf over so he doesn't choke on his own vomit?"

As the two men strained to roll over the fallen giant, Ivan looked up into the sky, watching Belle fly after one of the monstrous owls.

"Pretty neat sword there you've got." said Ivan, staring in awe. "How'd you get her...it...whatever it is?"

TIMUR



Serconas wrote:The sudden noise beside the nomad made him swivel around seeing the now crossbow-less man falling to the ground from the assault of a... woman? She looked more like beast with her long claws. Unthinking Ke'Am crossed the distance between himself and the two with delivering a kick to the womans side throwing her off balance and at least a bit away from the man on the ground. With little concern for his wellbeing Ke'Am pulled him away from the woman-beast.

Timur's life flashed before his eyes as the strange bestial woman charged at him yet again - before being intercepted by a slug of metal. The creature howled in agony, before falling forwards onto him. Panicking, he attempted to shove the still-flailing creature off him. To his relief, though, the creature fell off him to the left, with a sturdy kick from the quiet foreigner he had barely seen. Suddenly, he found himself dragged by the shoulder by the tall, dark man, before being dumped ungracefully on the deck a few yards away. The man hailed from no land that Timur was familiar with - he lacked the features of the Eresilians, Yelhenniens, and even Halvefori people. Even the single Sahranjiite he had met looked nothing like him. Of course, at this moment, he didn't care where the hell the man was from - he was grateful. Before he could say anything, though, Ke'Am had dashed off to re-enter the fray.

Nearby, the creature began to stir, despite a bullet through its skull. Well, that wouldn't do. Slowly walking up to it, Timur stabbed his shortsword through its skull with a crack, twisting it a couple times to ensure the job was finished. Blood still dripped heavily from his face - he had best stop that. Slicing a thing of cloth off one of the pirate's garb, he pushed it into his cheek, attempting to stop the bleeding.

Wait a minute. That wouldn't do. There was a better way about these things. Ignoring everything else going on around the deck, he pushed his hands into the corpse, feeling the dying embers of the creature - and pulled its life from it, a single spark of purple drifting from his fingers as he did so. Slowly, his wound started to close, the skin wrapping itself back together again. He smiled wickedly, feeling a rush of energy flow through him.

Now, it was time for him to inspect this peculiar creature! Was it a demon? A devil? An imp? Gods, these things were so intriguing. Was it a warped man, or a beast mutated into something more human than that? It wasn't every day that a prime opportunity like this came along. Drawing his shortsword sheathed at his waist, he sliced the creature's skin open a few inches at the ribcage, trying to take a peek at the innards. Above him, there was a sound of heavy wings beating the air, and he looked up...only to see the monstrous owl swoop in and steal away his specimen.

"Come back here at once!" he swore angrily in Garmiccian, shaking his gloved fist at the creature. Stupid beast had ruined the best opportunity he had to study in months! He reached for his crossbow, ready to dispatch the creat-

Wait a minute.

"Damn." he cursed, looking at the pieces of the crossbow littering the deck. Well, so much for that. He wouldn't be able to touch the owls at that height. Sighing, he looked around the deck, looking for something else to do. Lord Kuznetsov's daughter appeared to be attempting some spell or other - most likely a wind to rush them out of this dock. Was she using blood to paint? Ah, poor girl. Blood magic wasn't effective if you were serving the Holy Eight. Every serious dabbler in the arcane knew that the Holy Eight granted spells based on faith and passion. Well, regardless of her success, the sails needed to be lowered. He scrambled up the ladder affixed to the main mast, before striding along the booms of the mast and slicing the ties which held the sails wrapped up to them. They billowed down from the masts, revealing the pirate insignia. Well, he had done his part. Sitting on the lowest boom of the mast, he kicked his legs idly, watching the fight with the owls unfold. Opening his satchel, he pulled out a mostly crushed fish and started chewing. It wasn't every day that you got entertainment like this.
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Ameriganastan
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Postby Ameriganastan » Wed Mar 13, 2019 7:33 pm

Lazarian wrote:[

"Indeed, sir Lumen. Just leave him be." he chuckled, pulling the man up. "I'm Ivan. One of little miss Kuznetsov's guards." he continued, disdain coloring his voice at the mention of Katya. "We haven't met, but I've heard about you. Vould you mind helping me roll this giant oaf over so he doesn't choke on his own vomit?"

As the two men strained to roll over the fallen giant, Ivan looked up into the sky, watching Belle fly after one of the monstrous owls.

"Pretty neat sword there you've got." said Ivan, staring in awe. "How'd you get her...it...whatever it is?"

"One second..."

Lining up his back with the ship railing, Eric slammed himself into it. The crunching sound implying his wayward disc had been popped back into place.

"My back is gonna give out before my knee does. I'm calling it now. As for her..."

17 years ago

"Hello? Any vagrants in here? You don't have to answer, just promise that if you molest me in my sleep, you keep it out of my hair..."

Youngish Eric, still with black in his hair and just starting to grow his beard, skulked around a run down old tower.

"Guess I'm good. Not the most comfy place to bed down for the night, but it'll keep me out of the cold."

Before he could flop down for a nights rest, a noise echoed in his head.

"Hello?"

He drew his old sword, brandishing it at the dark.

"...I must be losing it. I'm hearing things."

"Down this way, please..."

He was hearing things alright.

"I shouldn't be listening to voices in my head. I should leave and go home. Ma probably misses me..."

Despite what he said, he walked down the dark halls of the tower, finding an old door.

"Okay, here we go. Whatever you are, don't desecrate my body if you kill me. Just burn me and toss the ashes in the sea. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He kicked the door open, finding nothing but an empty room, a skeleton and...

"A sword? Wow, a nice sword..."

He threw his current blade aside, picking up the new one and swinging it around.

"Wow. Light for a longsword. Not a scratch on you. That blue is nice. You're quite the lovely weapon. A Belle Lame as they say in...whatever country that language is from."

"Belle Lame...I like that."

As any sane person would do, Eric dropped the weapon and bolted out of the room, peeking back in a few moments later.

"...Did you just talk? Swords aren't supposed to talk."

"I'm a...special kind of sword. Can you please tell me what the year is? I'm afraid it's hard to keep track of time in here."

"...1765. Why?"

A silence lingered between them for a solid minute.

"300 years. I've been in here for 300 years..."

Eric slowly inched back over to her, very warily picking her up.

"You've been stuck in a closed room with a skeleton for 3 centuries? Well, that just won't do. I tell you what. How about you come with me. I'm travelling the world, seeing the sights and such. I could bring you along as a travel buddy/travel weapon. How bout it?"

"...I'd like that. Thank you, Sir..."

"Eric. Eric Joseph Lumen, at your service. Come on, Belle."

He strapped her onto his back.

"We got travelling to do."


"And we've been together ever since."
Last edited by Ameriganastan on Wed Mar 13, 2019 7:34 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Kassaran
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Postby Kassaran » Wed Mar 13, 2019 11:51 pm

The void rushed about him, the howling madness of it giving sudden way to the rooftops of Carogne where he caught his footing. an inch of roofing gave way to the drop thirty feet below where the cobbled streets of the city lay silent, but as the sounds of a great thundering and firefight began to carry across the night, there was the flashing of a light, which gave way to more lights, doors opening and sounds of men yelling and rushing. The panic and the curiosity of the late night madmen and the light sleepers now gave way to full on rioting as arms were born of both powder and blade. Violet eyes, shaded with indigo hues that were now beginning to give way to the flat and muted amethyst at the edges, scanned the horizon, eyes falling upon the splintered top of the Devil's Luck, where a tremendous crack of gunfire echoed once again throughout the night.

The sound of those whom were not simply curious, but incensed, brought Erosen's attention to the mass of grey cloaks and robes. He frowned, they had been closer than he'd hoped and while he knew there was something of a time crunch he had yet to enjoy, there was two in the crowds of curious onlookers which stood out. Foreign and exotic features had brought their appearances to more in line with that of the girl from earlier, but unlike her they were not strangers. If they were here, it would only be a matter of time before the Watchtower got to them as well, and they'd never make it to the ship in time for Erosen to justify the wait, and so he ran. His feet were fleet and carried him deftly from rooftop to rooftop, the soft footfalls of a practiced shadow-walker that had made him as elusive a man to the Watchtower during the time spent in Gaiaca.

His breath was long and deep, filling his chest between the striking of his feet against ceramic and slate tiles. Wooden roofing creaked and protested at his weight, which even now was still light in spite of the muscle upon his lean form. Purple mist hung behind him in the air as he ran, his magic curling the Dark Element around him and offering him the speed he needed to make it to the harbor. There was no use in wasting what little he was beginning to retain, he was going to need at least half of his strength left to enable the ship to cast off, his form finally coming to a brief stop atop a low warehouse near the docks which offered him a plain view of the ship and the carnage upon its decks. Bodies were strewn about everywhere and as he watched those present begin to finish the fight, he felt a great sense of unease wash through him. He'd hoped to head them off before they could reach the ship, but the gorillachowls now could be seen descending through the nighttime air and with great speed towards the deck of the ship.

His eyes, glowing a pale shade of lavender observed the reactions of those present, the report of gunshot and the smoke from the man whom had helped orchestrate this whole affair signified the firer, and the sudden thrashing of one of the gorillachowls had marked what his target had been. A second of the three creatures winged in and attempted to carry off one of the fallen upon the deck as a sudden hurtling of motion indicated the presence of an imperceptible force of divine power. It was, familiar and as he focused upon it, the warmth that built within him and forced him to look away informed him that indeed the Angelle of Pryastar he'd seen the previous day was here as well. Eric had seemed to keep her hidden when about the group, but he'd enjoyed the presence of the old man enough to trust him to bring the being if it had so desired to follow along.

The sound of a snapping and the great collapsing of a cable into the waters beside the ship cast Erosen's attention down from the heavens in unison with the falling of the last Gorillachowl, watching it fall upon the deck and become beset upon. At the prow of the vessel, one of the anchor cables had been cleaved through by the Garimiccian, Alexei. The man seemed to hold for a second, stagger, and then fall upon the deck prompting Eric to try and respond. As he watched, there was the sudden prickling sensation of something off about the scene. A man stood by and simply watched as Eric stumbled and fell beside his fellow veteran. Only one other tried to aid the two aging warriors as exposed upon the deck was the girl... Katya. She had stooped over, her hands running over the deck as... something was run across it.

Blood.

The girl was trying to use blood for what cause? A tome by her side had brought his attentions fully to the folly she had fallen into, and allowing himself but one last time to walk through shadows, he stepped forward off of the building and disappeared into the eaves of the peaks below, lights from within casting ample shadows to offer him refuge for a moment. His body flung itself through the portal that opened itself within the shade and in moments his body melted through the far side of a mast, first at an angle, and then normalizing as the bulk of his body passed through. Rapidly reorienting from the vertical into the horizontal, he rolled to his feet and took a hand to his lower back, checking the locks upon his short-blade before removing it from its sheath.

His head turned quickly, locking eyes with Everard before he quickly nodded and gestured towards the girl," The magic isn't more potent with blood, we don't have the time to waste on ritual, get her to commence the spell immediately and then cut the last anchor line over the starboard side. I'll take care of the port-side moorings, but if she tries to cast whatever magics she ends up conjuring while this ship's anchored, I don't think I need to tell you what could happen."

With what he needed to say, already completed, he made his best speed for the railings and leaped over them, his feet only momentarily touching the side of the vessel before he pushed off and landed lightly upon the wood of the dock just below. His foot moved quickly, slamming and connecting solidly with the planks nearest that made up the rudimentary walkway up to the ship. A gangplank if he remembered the term correctly, and a decently solid one at that as the heavy board budged but a moment before finally sliding off. The resounding shock travelled quickly through Erosen's leg with the uncomfortable sensation of having definitely cracked the bone, but whether the fracture was to be a complete break had yet to be seen. Teeth gritting, he dropped to a knee and held out a hand, dark energy forming around his injured leg as tendrils of power surged up around him and lanced through the air. The anchor which had been placed portside to keep the ship from drifting away, was further supported by the eight lines of rope and cable which now remained as the only support the ship had left.

Power wrapping about his ankle, he reinforced the damaged tendons and bone with what magic he could muster up before moving to his foot again. A lance of pain ripped through him and he grimaced in pain as he set it down gingerly and limped towards the first line. In the distance of the harbor, he could hear the crowds shouting and growing closer, and with them no doubt were coming reinforcements that they would need to outrun. Rather, it would be the reinforcements that those still on the ship would need to outrun. The second line was close by, and the singing of his blade through the air struck the rope cleanly through. There was no need for hacking, Dark Element had collected along the blade of the shortsword and now offered itself as a catalyst for faster degrading the quality of the rope as the shining metal bit in with ease. The third and fourth lines similarly were close together, but there was something of a great fear he held as he stepped forward again, the injured foot now beginning to numb in his mind as he tried to focus on the task at hand. It was still refusing to take his weight, but he managed to reach the lines in time to cut through them as well.

As his swing came down, he struggled to regain his balance, his body wheeling around as he risked a look over his shoulder at the torches and figures beginning to pour out of the shadows and onto the waterfront, investigating the source of all the noise. Launching himself backwards, he slammed hard onto the dock, rolling onto his stomach and then moving to his hands and knees to quickly saw through the fifth and sixth lines. He was almost done, but as he continued to try and crawl, he felt the concern for his own welfare beginning to rise. The ship would have to leave, but he couldn't leave without making sure the two he'd seen in the city were indeed safe. His eyes glancing back towards the edge of the deck above him, he steeled himself and dragged himself to the final mooring where he brought the blade down one last time.

The ropes snapped free, and bracing himself, he dropped flat on his stomach, and rolled away from the ship. If Katya had finished the preparations for her spell, it would begin any second now and he didn't want to risk being caught in the gale which would catch the ship and push it out to sea, his body suddenly jerking as it felt him roll upon an edge. Dead leg leading, he felt gravity find himself with a lack of support and pulled him into the salt waters of the harbor several feet below.
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Lazarian
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Postby Lazarian » Thu Mar 14, 2019 3:11 pm

Ameriganastan wrote:
Lazarian wrote:"Indeed, sir Lumen. Just leave him be." he chuckled, pulling the man up. "I'm Ivan. One of little miss Kuznetsov's guards." he continued, disdain coloring his voice at the mention of Katya. "We haven't met, but I've heard about you. Vould you mind helping me roll this giant oaf over so he doesn't choke on his own vomit?"

As the two men strained to roll over the fallen giant, Ivan looked up into the sky, watching Belle fly after one of the monstrous owls.

"Pretty neat sword there you've got." said Ivan, staring in awe. "How'd you get her...it...whatever it is?"

"One second..."

Lining up his back with the ship railing, Eric slammed himself into it. The crunching sound implying his wayward disc had been popped back into place.

"My back is gonna give out before my knee does. I'm calling it now. As for her..."

17 years ago

"Hello? Any vagrants in here? You don't have to answer, just promise that if you molest me in my sleep, you keep it out of my hair..."

Youngish Eric, still with black in his hair and just starting to grow his beard, skulked around a run down old tower.

"Guess I'm good. Not the most comfy place to bed down for the night, but it'll keep me out of the cold."

Before he could flop down for a nights rest, a noise echoed in his head.

"Hello?"

He drew his old sword, brandishing it at the dark.

"...I must be losing it. I'm hearing things."

"Down this way, please..."

He was hearing things alright.

"I shouldn't be listening to voices in my head. I should leave and go home. Ma probably misses me..."

Despite what he said, he walked down the dark halls of the tower, finding an old door.

"Okay, here we go. Whatever you are, don't desecrate my body if you kill me. Just burn me and toss the ashes in the sea. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He kicked the door open, finding nothing but an empty room, a skeleton and...

"A sword? Wow, a nice sword..."

He threw his current blade aside, picking up the new one and swinging it around.

"Wow. Light for a longsword. Not a scratch on you. That blue is nice. You're quite the lovely weapon. A Belle Lame as they say in...whatever country that language is from."

"Belle Lame...I like that."

As any sane person would do, Eric dropped the weapon and bolted out of the room, peeking back in a few moments later.

"...Did you just talk? Swords aren't supposed to talk."

"I'm a...special kind of sword. Can you please tell me what the year is? I'm afraid it's hard to keep track of time in here."

"...1765. Why?"

A silence lingered between them for a solid minute.

"300 years. I've been in here for 300 years..."

Eric slowly inched back over to her, very warily picking her up.

"You've been stuck in a closed room with a skeleton for 3 centuries? Well, that just won't do. I tell you what. How about you come with me. I'm travelling the world, seeing the sights and such. I could bring you along as a travel buddy/travel weapon. How bout it?"

"...I'd like that. Thank you, Sir..."

"Eric. Eric Joseph Lumen, at your service. Come on, Belle."

He strapped her onto his back.

"We got travelling to do."


"And we've been together ever since."

"That's pretty neat." said Ivan at the conclusion of the tale, grinning. An actual grin, instead of a twisted smirk, which was quite out of the ordinary. He had always loved tales of heroes and legends when he was a small boy - although it had been quite some time since then, of course. But the story was right out of a folkloric legend, and it was neat to see that this man was keeping them company. Of course, the greybeard was clearly getting along in years, but it was encouraging to have him nonetheless. And even better, Eric wasn't a spellborn! Just a normal man, defying the odds and making his way in the world with his own wits. It was how Ivan liked to envision himself (although he was really just a petty thief, at best). Suddenly, he heard his name, and swerved around, looking for the source. Hopefully the Baron's daughter hadn't seen him slacking off. She could be a real pain in the ass about him "shirking his duties" and "stealing from poor innocent citizens" and "associating with the wrong crowd". Good riddance.

"IVAN, GET OVER HERE!" the shout came again, and Ivan located the source. Then he paled, his grin fading and the blood draining from his face. Oh dear. He didn't want to get involved with whatever that thing was.

"How about ve take this on together, yes?" he chuckled nervously to Eric, pointing at the ensuing battle on the deck.

TIMUR


"This really is spectacular." Timur thought to himself, enjoying the night breeze on his face and watching Belle clash with the monstrous owl above. It was always pleasant to be out of the hateful gaze of the sun - the moon held no such vendetta against his existence. Although gazing upon Belle's divine presence did burn his face like a nasty sunburn, his helm protected most of his face. And it wasn't like there was a whole lot of value to protect, anyways.

Yes, perhaps he could have been doing something more productive, he thought, as he chewed another bite of the fish, but he had done his part with the mission. The sails were down, the anchor cables were split, and all that was left was for his lord's daughter to finish her incantation. It was unlikely that the blood would help in any way, but that circle did indeed have to be drawn for a greater spell to be cast.

"She could have used chalk or etched it in with her sword." he mused to himself, stroking his stubbly ginger chin. Magic, as far as he could tell from his studies into the occult, was split into two sorts - a more instinctual power, such as shooting fireballs and gusts of wind, and a learned arcane art, like casting a spell to forging supernaturally strong armor or preparing a rainstorm for a desperate village. He greatly preferred the second. Much more skill involved, really. Anyways, it wasn't his problem what the girl did. Either she succeeded or she didn't. Nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly, something caught his eye - the prodigal son had arrived! He stared at Erosen as the man dashed down the deck, delighted. It was so rare to see a spellborn of darkness in the wild, and especially one with such potential. Timur could feel the dark energy emanating from the man just by looking at him. In comparison, his own aura was faint and barely perceptible at all. Although, frankly, that was more of a blessing than a curse. As he looked over the deck...he saw that one of the enormous owl beasts had knocked Ke'Am to the ground, and screeched triumphantly, preparing to finish the strange foreigner. It was bleeding from the chest - probably the result of Everard's shot - but, unfortunately, it was still standing. Timur sighed. Well, so much for his entertainment. He personally didn't know the savage, but it would be a damn shame to let someone who had saved his life die a miserable death.

Standing up on the boom, he ran along the beam with surprising agility, before leaping below. It was hardly much of a leap at all - the beast was so tall that he barely fell through the air at all before landing on its back, plunging his shortsword at what he hoped was the top of its spine. The skull on the beast would likely be too thick for him to pierce its brain (as Everard's bullet had indicated), but the top of the spine was an equally good target. That being said, such a deed was much easier said than done, and he struck slightly to the left instead. Curses. The creature screeched, rending the air with its cry, and he winced. There was no way he'd be able take this on himself. Dangling from the hilt of the sword, he pointed at the newcomer (Florian), the "Beggar Queen", and the one-eyed veteran, who were standing nearby.

"You lot! Quit standing around! There's bird to kill!" he spat in Gallian, before his eyes traveled over the deck to find Ivan shirking his duties (as usual) over near the capstan.

"IVAN, GET OVER HERE!"
Last edited by Lazarian on Thu Mar 14, 2019 3:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Woodstovia
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Postby Woodstovia » Thu Mar 14, 2019 6:04 pm

Florian had turned as pale as a sheet and was standing alone in the corner of the ship, looking like he was about to throw up.

This wasn't how an adventure was supposed to go.

This was just madness, utter madness, three great owl-things were fighting his fellow humans, now an angel was flying around the air - which somewhat assuaged his fears after having to watch blood magic. But then another man had suddenly materialized on the ship and began bouncing around the place before dark tendrils began consuming him...

thisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfine

Nearby a knight clad in what must have once been dazzling white plate was covered almost head to toe in gore and had a maniacal look on his face as he dragged one of the owls down and began plunging his sword into it. At least he was on their side. Florian thought glumly. He'd try figuring out the dark magic stuff later, for now he just didn't want to confront it. He'd only get upset, he'd wait until the battle was over and he'd calmed down.

But what exactly were these people? He knew from his studies that there was no such thing as "gods", but then again he didn't believe there were giant owls until recently. He began trying to formulate some kind of story that made sense in his mind as he observed the scene. These were just magic users. He hated the term "mutant" because it carried negative connotations but Master Azrael's works hypothesized Elementals were just ordinary humans with some kind of additional gland. When dissections had proved this wasn't the case that shifted to an additional amount of brainpower they'd unlocked which allowed them to harness magic. He was incorrect once but maybe that was the truth. How would a god even impregnate a woman without everyone in their town noticing?

Crap he was being pointed at.

Florian looked around desperately for a way to slack off but couldn't think of much. He could slip below decks and "secure" the rest of the ship but he didn't dare stray that far away from his protection. Instead he decided to stand beside Alexei's body and wave his halberd vaguely in the direction of the owls, pretending his main aim was protecting the man. In reality Florian just didn't want to engage with the battle.

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Ameriganastan
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Postby Ameriganastan » Thu Mar 14, 2019 7:09 pm

Lazarian wrote:"That's pretty neat." said Ivan at the conclusion of the tale, grinning. An actual grin, instead of a twisted smirk, which was quite out of the ordinary. He had always loved tales of heroes and legends when he was a small boy - although it had been quite some time since then, of course. But the story was right out of a folkloric legend, and it was neat to see that this man was keeping them company. Of course, the greybeard was clearly getting along in years, but it was encouraging to have him nonetheless. And even better, Eric wasn't a spellborn! Just a normal man, defying the odds and making his way in the world with his own wits. It was how Ivan liked to envision himself (although he was really just a petty thief, at best). Suddenly, he heard his name, and swerved around, looking for the source. Hopefully the Baron's daughter hadn't seen him slacking off. She could be a real pain in the ass about him "shirking his duties" and "stealing from poor innocent citizens" and "associating with the wrong crowd". Good riddance.

"IVAN, GET OVER HERE!" the shout came again, and Ivan located the source. Then he paled, his grin fading and the blood draining from his face. Oh dear. He didn't want to get involved with whatever that thing was.

"How about ve take this on together, yes?" he chuckled nervously to Eric, pointing at the ensuing battle on the deck.

TIMUR


"This really is spectacular." Timur thought to himself, enjoying the night breeze on his face and watching Belle clash with the monstrous owl above. It was always pleasant to be out of the hateful gaze of the sun - the moon held no such vendetta against his existence. Although gazing upon Belle's divine presence did burn his face like a nasty sunburn, his helm protected most of his face. And it wasn't like there was a whole lot of value to protect, anyways.

Yes, perhaps he could have been doing something more productive, he thought, as he chewed another bite of the fish, but he had done his part with the mission. The sails were down, the anchor cables were split, and all that was left was for his lord's daughter to finish her incantation. It was unlikely that the blood would help in any way, but that circle did indeed have to be drawn for a greater spell to be cast.

"She could have used chalk or etched it in with her sword." he mused to himself, stroking his stubbly ginger chin. Magic, as far as he could tell from his studies into the occult, was split into two sorts - a more instinctual power, such as shooting fireballs and gusts of wind, and a learned arcane art, like casting a spell to forging supernaturally strong armor or preparing a rainstorm for a desperate village. He greatly preferred the second. Much more skill involved, really. Anyways, it wasn't his problem what the girl did. Either she succeeded or she didn't. Nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly, something caught his eye - the prodigal son had arrived! He stared at Erosen as the man dashed down the deck, delighted. It was so rare to see a spellborn of darkness in the wild, and especially one with such potential. Timur could feel the dark energy emanating from the man just by looking at him. In comparison, his own aura was faint and barely perceptible at all. Although, frankly, that was more of a blessing than a curse. As he looked over the deck...he saw that one of the enormous owl beasts had knocked Ke'Am to the ground, and screeched triumphantly, preparing to finish the strange foreigner. It was bleeding from the chest - probably the result of Everard's shot - but, unfortunately, it was still standing. Timur sighed. Well, so much for his entertainment. He personally didn't know the savage, but it would be a damn shame to let someone who had saved his life die a miserable death.

Standing up on the boom, he ran along the beam with surprising agility, before leaping below. It was hardly much of a leap at all - the beast was so tall that he barely fell through the air at all before landing on its back, plunging his shortsword at what he hoped was the top of its spine. The skull on the beast would likely be too thick for him to pierce its brain (as Everard's bullet had indicated), but the top of the spine was an equally good target. That being said, such a deed was much easier said than done, and he struck slightly to the left instead. Curses. The creature screeched, rending the air with its cry, and he winced. There was no way he'd be able take this on himself. Dangling from the hilt of the sword, he pointed at the newcomer (Florian), the "Beggar Queen", and the one-eyed veteran, who were standing nearby.

"You lot! Quit standing around! There's bird to kill!" he spat in Gallian, before his eyes traveled over the deck to find Ivan shirking his duties (as usual) over near the capstan.

"IVAN, GET OVER HERE!"


Eric scanned the ship. Belle was airborne, his knife was lodged in a pirates skull, there were no other blades in quick reach and he refused to use the guns littering the deck.

"Fight smart, not hard. Lemme just reach down in here real quick..."

He delved deep into the Fanny Pack of Wonder, producing The Mixture.

"Can't believe I'm about to do this. I doubt I'll ever find that horned sumbitch who sold it to me again. Happy trails, you miraculous concoction you."

He took an extremely tiny sip before yelling at the beast.

"OPEN WIDE YOU FEATHERY FUCK!"

He reared back and chucked the whole bottle of mind altering liquid(?) into the beasts maw.

"We might wanna take cover. I'm not sure what's gonna happen in a few seconds..."
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The Ameri Train.
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Tsundere Ameri.
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Hanafuridake
Diplomat
 
Posts: 823
Founded: Sep 09, 2018
Mother Knows Best State

Postby Hanafuridake » Fri Mar 15, 2019 9:40 pm

As a proud member of a warrior aristocracy descending back thousands of years and mythically descended from the sun, Fumi did the most heroic thing she could think of when a giant bird swooped over her head: she fell. Her sword slipped out of the opening in her kimono and she quickly grabbed onto the weapon lest it be lost (and it was rather difficult to replace).

Damn, it was no time to be keeping secrets, not when her life depended on it. She unsheathed the weapon and prepared to fight the bird...
Ameriganastan wrote:He took an extremely tiny sip before yelling at the beast.

"OPEN WIDE YOU FEATHERY FUCK!"

He reared back and chucked the whole bottle of mind altering liquid(?) into the beasts maw.

"We might wanna take cover. I'm not sure what's gonna happen in a few seconds..."


Oh joy. Fumi quickly sheathed the weapon and ran for cover.

Flacht rolled her eyes. “Some warrior princess you are,” she murmured, much to the shōgun's chagrin.
Last edited by Hanafuridake on Fri Mar 15, 2019 9:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Serconas
Envoy
 
Posts: 347
Founded: Jul 30, 2014
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Serconas » Sat Mar 16, 2019 8:13 pm

Ke'Am stood frozen in horror as the winged beasts plunged screeching from the sky. For a brief moment he was certain that it was over for him, ripped apart by a round-faced monstrous mockery of a bird while covered in the blood of those he had just slain. Truly the nomads judgement had arrived.

Suddenly thunder roared once again, ripping through the feathered terrors body and halting its assault momentarily. Enough for Ke'Am to regain some of his composure and to back away quickly. Still the beast crashing on the ships deck knocked the nomad from his feet making him loose his grip on the axe. As his weapon slid across the wooden planks Ke'Am swiftly lifted his left arm in the hope of defending himself. The measly remainder of his shild was immediately shredded by his now wounded opponents onslaught, though the monster had gotten some of the wound into its throat. As it tried to choke up the bits Ke'Am tried to crawl backwards.
Luckily somebody of the group had come to his aid, though the young man could not make out who exactly.
"IVAN, GET OVER HERE!"

All of a sudden Ke'Am found Eric next to him, leaning back holding something in his hand as if to throw it.
"OPEN WIDE YOU FEATHERY FUCK!"

And throw the old man did, right into the beasts opened beak as it just finished crunching what was left of the nomads shield. It started to gag shortly after the thing went down its throat and Ke'Am could have sworn he had heard a burp coming from it, too.
Heeding the words of Eric, he desperately tried to get away, not that going forward was an option, unarmed as the nomad momentarily was.
A wild Owl appeared from the tall grass!

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Zarkenis Ultima
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 41963
Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Mar 17, 2019 12:48 pm

Constaniana wrote:---
Rupudska wrote:---


As the Watchtower soldier raised his sword, Tristan prepared to parry his next attack and then press the attack, but he soon found out that it would not be necessary: his wife jumped into action, knocking the man down with a surge of lightning magic before doing the same with another one, the last remaining Watchtower guard and in fact the last remaining warrior on the ship, sans for the bloodied, appropriately-named Bloody Bart, who promptly surrendered to the party. His surrender was promptly accepted by Everard, and that seemed to be the end of that.

At least until the screeching came, followed by the appearance of three horrid winged beasts which immediately earned a scowl from the white-haired man. More Watchtower abominations. He thought as he looked at the demon owls which immediately scattered to attack various members of the group. But the party did not delay in responding to the new threat, and soon one of the owls was being shot at and stabbed by several people, while another was engaged by the party's own Angelle. That only left the one that Catrin had attempted to ground, with limited success.

I should lend a hand. The Ice Elemental decided, gripping Fenrirtusk tightly as he ran towards the screecher, focusing his magic through the runes of the holy glaive once more. As soon as he was close enough to the beast, he jumped high into the air and thrust his weapon forward in order to skewer the demonic bird with it. Before the weapon made contact, however, the magic stored within the glaive's runes exploded, encasing its tip in a blade of ice that was several times larger than its own.

"Frozen Spear!" Tristan shouted as the spell activated, aiming to drive the massive ice blade right through the beast's core.
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Constaniana
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 25004
Founded: Mar 10, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Fri Mar 22, 2019 8:43 am

Reverend Norv wrote:Then Bloody Bart struggled to his feet. Ev turned, his carbine held loosely at the low ready, half-aimed at the pirate. When he took in Bart's obvious wounds, he relaxed slightly, and then nodded when the pirate offered his surrender. But before Ev could reply, a terrible screech rent the night air, and three massive, shaggy owls plunged out of the icy mist that covered the harbor. One snatched up the girl-monster's body, one descended on Catrin, and one plunged toward the strange man who had joined the group just before they attacked the ship.

There was not even a moment of hesitation in Ev's choice of his target. He turned his full attention toward the creature attacking Ke'Am, pulled his carbine into his shoulder, and sighed out half his breath. The doglock's barrel tracked in a smooth arc, and then it let out another hard crack, and the reek of black powder filled the deck yet again as the heavy ball sped unerringly toward its target.

Ev leaned his carbine against the gunwhale, and as he drew a wheellock pistol in each hand, he turned to Bloody Bart. "On behalf of the Driegdern Regiment of Horse, Albrasfont State Army," he told the pirate with serene formality, "I accept your surrender, and in accordance with the ancient laws and customs of war, I accord you the privilege of parole due an officer." Ev cocked his pistols. "It's time for you to get off this ship, captain."

Woodstovia wrote:Aerion looked bitterly disappointed as the battle wound down. The Watchtower and pirates hadn't been very worthy foes after all. Most were strong or quick but didn't seem particularly well trained. The pirates were probably used to robbing fat merchants and dispatching with mercenaries more interested in escaping with their lives than actually fighting. They weren't used to real soldiers, much less a hero like Aerion d'Autriche. He grimaced a little at his blade as the excitement of battle wore off. He loved the colours but blood was sticky and smelled bad. He'd need to wash everything all over again. He thought glumly, his bloodlust wafting away as the boy talked to the pirate leader.

"Surrender?!" he hissed incongruously. "And have more mouths in Carogne telling the Watchtower and local officials about a group of butchers stealing away a ship? There's no such thing as a surrender, you should know that. We'll hang him off the crow's nest before-"

Aerion was interrupted by fresh prey and quickly went back to work, diving at one of the foul beasts without a second thought, the one which was trying to drag away another of his targets. He wasn't letting anyone escape his wrath that easily. He drove his strikes at the feet of the thing, not exactly experienced at fighting giant owls. He hoped it'd just drop the girl and fly out of his life so he could fight a human, or at least what looked vaguely human instead of a dumb animal.

"Am I permitted to walk off the Devil's Luck, or do I have to go for a swim as well?" Bloody Bart quipped, bowing his head to Everard. He snorted contemptuously at Aerion once his rant ended and he dove for one of the fell owls, "What does that yaldson think I'm going to do, run to the police? 'Oh please help us Mr. Policeman, some mean people stole our pirate ship so we can't go commit crimes on the high seas; please help us get it back!' Or how about 'Help us Watchtower, some tosser from your group came onto our pirate ship last night and wanted to bribe us to betray our new passengers, then I said no, and then I saw all your agents there get killed by Elementals but they let me go?' I'll not make myself look like an utter wandought. Besides, there's no more crow's nest to hang me off of."

Aerion's prey had a hard time fighitng back with both of its feet busy carrying the corpse. The deviant bird of prey resorted to slapping the Ice Elemental with its wings a few times, and then suddenly swung its neck down to peck him in the face. It missed his eyes, instead grabbing a chunk of his flowing hair. The monster tore out a clump, and as d'Autriche recoiled from the loss it got high enough to no longer be within range of his sword. Unfortunately for the monster, it was not out of range from the angelle. Thrice it pecked in vain at Belle Lame, but only landed one hit before her twin blades slashed its wings. The giant owl and its cargo plummeted into the harbour water.

Ke'Am's attacker spun about frantically in an effort to dislodge Timur from its back, but once The Mixture went down its throat it stopped moving for a few seconds. It started screeching even more and began to vomit, an repugnant blend of whatever furry stuff it had previously eaten, Ke'Am's shield, and blood from its lungs courtesy of Everard's carbine ball. It finally succeeded in getting Timur to lose his grip, although the blade remained sticking out of its back, seeing as the monster lacked the dexterity and opposable thumbs to reach around to its back and pull out the weapon before it got driven in any deeper. Then again, maybe it was subconsciously keeping the sword in there to prevent massive bleeding. Or perhaps it didn't think to do anything like that because it was utterly tripping balls now. Whatever amount of intelligence the Watchtower creature really possessed, it was spent trying to comprehend the cosmic horrors that the Mixture had brought into its mind. The stress from being so heavily poisoned caused the brute's heart to burst, and it collapsed in a disgusting heap.

Lisoette had been charging up a blast to fire up at the monster swooping down upon Catrin, but her focus was interrupted by the surprising sight of the giant spider-woman springing into the air to chop at the owl. What sort of squats routine does she do? Mrs. Frost chided herself for getting distracted; there would be plenty enough time out at sea to pick through Catrin's brain. The fell owl had crashed to the deck dangerously close to her. Lis stepped back, deciding that for a big beast like this her best bet would be one well-charged spell rather than her usual flurry of less arcanely-attuned blows. Tristan leapt into the fray with one of his signature moves, and his blade struck true. As the massive icicle went in it seemed to shine unusually for a few moments, and the effect lingered until the blade emerged out of the monster's back. Lisoette didn't remember seeing that happen before, and there wasn't much moonlight for it to be reflecting. Well, yet another topic of conversation that could be saved for when they were out at sea.

"Have fun cleaning up owl barf," said Bloody Bart with a wave before he jumped overboard, swimming towards the nearest pier ladder. The Devil's Luck was finally under the group's control.

As Katya finished painting the diagram for her spell she would notice an eight-foot tall woman with a fan in her hand standing just outside the circle.

"It is not needed for you to wound yourself to have me answer your prayers, Katya. Tenaembra and all his servants will be trying to do enough of that. Besides, it's a bit unsanitary. When Elementals die it should either be from very old age or with the corpses of hellspawn heaped all around them, not from a bloody infection," the familiar stranger chortled. Her expression saddened a bit as she thought about something, "This is going to be a very long and arduous voyage for you, my child. Let's give you a good strong wind to start you lot off." The goddess of Wind made a swish with her fan, and Katya's runes roared to life. She disappeared, leaving Katya to finish the rite.

At last the party sailed out of Carogne. They hauled the pinnace up and began disposing of the enemy bodies, and as they did so Lisoette noticed they seemed one ally short.

"Where did Erosen go?" she asked, hefting up one of the dead pirates and carrying him towards the railing.
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