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RP:High Sea's Adversity

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Part of the Sharknado Arc


Summary: The Adventurer's Guild sets sail for Twister Island, in hopes of reclaiming the land for the natives, reprehending Crimson Cloak, and casting the wicked storms and flying sharks out to sea. However, they find more than they bargained for at the halfway point, and nearly wind up shipwrecked as they face elemental humanoids that threaten to stop them from nearing the island.



The stillness of the docks is a welcome reprieve when compared to the choppy water that lurks beneath the lined up galleys, as though threatening to cast the crew and precious cargo beneath the waves at any given moment. The ship at the front of the line is long and lean, only housing a few scouts to warn those at the rear of any pending danger. At its side is a similar ship, though this one has a trio of ranger’s, their bows at the ready, should a missile attack have to be launched. The largest vessel is where the members of the Adventurer’s Guild would begin to board, and after setting down their belongings in their designated cabin, it’s encouraged for them all to convene on deck, where their leader waits, patiently. The boats in the rear, a dozen or so, carry a neatly composed team of healers, rangers, weapons, medical supplies, and enough rations for a small army. One small ship remains anchored, for any stragglers that wish to set sail at a later time, and not head out with the morning group. As dawn breaks, the nearby areas begin to come alive, as patrons peruse the wares at the local fish market, the beachfront stores, and the famous Whalers Bar. A couple of passersby pause near the docks, to wave at those heading out for a journey at sea, and a few of the more religious folk clamp their hands around their crucifixes and mouth a prayer. The scent of salt is strong in the air, the boats carry the familiar sway underfoot with each pulse of the ocean, and everything looks to be in order for the long awaited venture to Twister Island.


(Post 1 of 2) Lanara had arrived long before the sun dared to make its appearance, and fatigue was already wearing heavily on the woman. She had to make sure every minute detail was tended to, that everything was perfectly in place on the ship, and that she kept her mind occupied with each passing second. If she wasn’t busy, she’d overthink, and that was never a good thing, as she was known to stress about stress, before there was even anything to stress about! The witch didn’t want there to be any casualties, as she had grown quite fond of those she had recruited into the guild, and it nags at the back of her mind that this entire charade is heavily laced with danger. There was the elements they’d encounter, the rough waters, the treacherous trail of maneuvering through the sea to stealthily enter the island. Next, they’d encounter a trio of tornados, and if that wasn’t frightening enough, they had sucked up massive sharks that would need to be euthanized or transported back into their natural habitat. And then, if all went according to plan, they’d have to face off with the powerful mage, Crimson Cloak, the villain behind all of this madness. Hopefully, there would still be villagers left to rescue, many would require medical treatment, and they could regain use of their homeland. “Please, don’t let there be any more surprises…” Lana mutters, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the rising sun, as she sees Aira stepping onto the docks. “Morning, Navigator.” A half-smile is given to the blonde, though she doesn’t linger at her side, as they both had work to do before they set sail. A feeling of unease settles on Lana’s shoulders, and the last thing she needs is for the guild to witness her lack of faith. Heading below deck, she works on some breathing exercises, and places her pentacle around her neck.


(Post 2 of 2) Lanara :: Once everyone had begun to arrive, the witch would resurface on deck and stand before the figurehead, which was ironically resembling a great white shark. She stands tall and proud, a smile plastered on her lush lips, as her gaze trails over each members face. Honestly, she hadn’t expected all of them to show, but she’s ever grateful for those that are risking their lives to help the natives on the island, and to feel that rush when they’ve completed a successful adventure. The thrill of the unknown has always appealed to Lana, so she clears her throat and gives a speech that is much like the woman herself, short and sweet. “Thank you all for coming, it truly means the world to me, and I know it will to Renata and the others on Twister Island. This path before us isn’t for the faint of heart, and there will be danger, so please, keep your wits about you. Don’t be afraid to ask another for help, and please put your lives above all else. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and I don’t expect any heroic actions that put your own lives on the line. Before we head out, I’ve asked Khitti, the head of the Paladin’s Guild, to give a blessing. And then… Aira will make any last minute adjustments, and we will take off!” Clasping her hands together, her gaze trails to the redhead, and she gives a slow nod. The crew would fall silent, in respect for the prayer. Even Circinus hangs his head, ever at Lana’s side, his fur bristling in the autumn breeze. Once the blessing concludes, the witch lifts her head and briefly mingles with those gathered, while tending to her duties as their leader.


Elioyahazer has been upon the docks and the ships gathered here for an unknown amount of time. Ensuring that the requested supplies have been delivered as promised. That each weapon and armor purchased had met with his lofty expectations. When he found himself satisfied, he lugs several crates over to the main ship where everyone would gather. Each member, would find themselves handed a spring powered harpoon, enchanted to make its draw easier and a chain shirt with sleeves; also enchanted to help withstand the bite force of a great white. The weapons expert couldn’t gather full suits based on their timeframe for such a large group of people. After they’ve all either confirmed or denied their need for those items, Eli makes his way to Lanara, giving her nothing more than a nod in greeting. The tools he had promised her are available - at least that’s what his nod implies. No other words are offered as the desert born meanders to the port side of the ship, folding his arms over his chest in silence. Though something seemed off about the man. The normal veil of a keffiyeh and his desert style robes are long gone. In fact, his identity is no longer hidden. Dressed in similar garb to what has been given out to the other guild members. The cinnamon skinned male locks his sectorial heterochromia eyes on the horizon, staring into the void where sky meets water.


Aira arrives to the docks before the sun even dips her fingertips over the horizon, spending the time discussing tactics with the various rangers as well as reviewing the planned route with the helmsmen on their fleet. She double and triple checks that their maps are all identical before meeting with the signalmen to ensure they were all on the same page with the flag semaphore system to keep communication open and accurate when they were out at sea. Just as she meanders towards the largest of the ships, the one she would be navigating, her eyes land on the familiar figure of Sebastian, waiting at the dock with his hands on his hips. awaiting the huntress. “Let’s go Helmsman Bast,” she tells him with a wry grin, nudging him so the pair could climb aboard, securing one strap of her gifted backpack over her left shoulder. Lanara is spotted immediately, and the witch is given a respectful nod. “Ahoy there, Cap’n,” she refers to the leader of the guild with a wink before turning back to her friend. “Can you do me a favor and check in with the boatswain? Make sure they have everything that they need while I put my bag in my cabin?” With a nod to Sebastian as he jokingly salutes the huntress, she makes her way below deck to her assigned room, making sure to store her items away before securing a long length of thin suede with a oversized tooth pendant around her neck, tucking it down the front of her shirt. Aira sweeps up her longer locks of platinum hair, tying them in a high ponytail atop her head behind her vulpine ears. Back on deck, she runs around making her checks as the others arrive, only breaking once Lana’s presence calls them to order. Aira stands abaft, arms folded against her chest, the vixen looking more at ease than she felt as Lanara welcomes them briefly. Her expression doesn’t soften when Elioyahazer approaches with the chained shirt and the harpoon, the latter earring a cursory yet intrigued glance. When it came time for the prayer, Aira shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, her metallic eyes darting from one bowed head to the next. She doesn’t completely follow their example but does dip her chin a fraction in a show of respect. Only once the blessing is complete does she move away from the crowd, calling out commands and barking orders to the various crew members to finalize their preparations.


Scandal stood on the dock under the stern of the ship. The large dragon constricted to his draconian form, even while his sheer size was intimidating enough, the very fact that he was there, signified to the locals that their was business about needing much muscle. With his arms crossed, as Blue, walked about with every bit of spunk has she had had and hour before. She paced back and forth, until Scandal finally acknowledged by Lanara and offering his greetings, was instructed on his following task. Blue meanwhile eyed the elf, and then looked back at Scandal. “If you hadn’t told me she was your sister, I would suspect you were cheating on me.” Scandal sighed and rolled his eyes. “Uh uh, don’t you roll your eyes at me,” She said pointing at him, “I will thrash your ass, if you so much as so much as make one more dumbass sigh in my direction.” Scandal locked eyes with Lanara in sympathy, “Look at what I got myself into.”


Dyraxdiin arrives in the most grand of manners - on the back of an old wagon, pulled by a donkey. The farmer that the Wyrm had hired to bring him here pulls the reins taut and offers a toothless grin to Diin. The mage produces a silver and flips it to the old grizzled farmer, before climbing off the back of the wagon and heading towards the docks. A simple clean spell is cast on his half-robes and mithril plate, mid-step, which leaves behind a trail of road dust like some sort of ephemeral shadow that forgot its place alongside the step of its owner. The wyrm sets a casual expression on his magical features and strolls up to what he figures is the commander's ship. His sure step carries him up the gangplank and aboard the vessel. How he hates these things. What insane mortal thought it wise to slap together some driftwood and sail the sea, anyhow? Then again, most of the monsters of the deep died long ago, before even this city was erected at the foot of the great oceans. "Morning," Dyraxdiin hollers out to whomever is present, assured that his words would find the appropriate person.


(Post 1 of 2) Khitti hadn’t been seen in some time, not since Lanara’s birthday party. There hadn’t even been word sent to say that she was showing up for this mission. If she’d even been found, why would she after such a nightmare!? The redhead showed up fashionably late, however. Gone were the knee-length, sleeveless dresses she adored and, in their place, dark soft leather adorned Khitti’s form. From head to toe, the thick but flexible armor covered her, even going so far as to shield her face from view with a hood made of the same material. The only thing that might even give a hint of it being Khitti was the bit of dark red braided hair that poked out from within the hood, as well as the katana, Tenbatsu Kaji, on her hip, her bow Diamond Dust on her back, carefully fixed to her quiver, and the dark brown cross-body satchel hanging from shoulder to the hip opposite of her sword. She clearly looked like a threat, with that whole getup, except… there was this strange warm feeling. Much like Zahrani, Khitti too had her own holy aura, bestowed upon her by the sprite within Tenbatsu Kaji. It projected itself outward from the templar, radiating calmness towards those present, while simultaneously seeking out those that would do them harm. The aura was not something she kept up in such a huge radius; Khitti still had friends amongst the undead and those that delved in dark magic, and she wasn’t about to hurt them with her abilities. Knowing there to be neither in the group, however, the redhead let the aura go freely where it may. Khitti’s olive-green gaze shifted to the shore to the south, in the direction where the Tranquility sat at the wharf as she listened to Lanara, and then returned her attention to the discussion at hand when the blessing and prayer was mentioned.


(Post 2 of 2) Khitti :: “As Lanara said, I was asked to say a prayer and bless our journey, our battle, and our return. I prayed within my guild hall, for us, to any of the gods that would hear.” Her tongue felt numb as she spoke, her words hollow; Khitti as a whole felt distant and detached from everything after her ordeal in Venturil. “The gods may always be watching and listening, but trust in your fellow guildmates as well. You will be well guarded by my magic on this trip and Cyris, at the very least, will be with us.” There would be no bowing of heads, thankfully for Aira, as Khitti gave a wave of her hand to signify that it wasn’t necessary. If Lanara felt she had a lack of faith today, then Khitti’s was in the negative, even though it had nothing to do with the guild’s mission at all. With a few somatic gestures, however, all present on the ship would find that that aura of Khitti’s not only calmed them, but helped them to feel free and unhindered by any worries that might plague them and keep them from doing their job properly.


Lanara :: It had been a good four hours or so since they had left Cenril, and there is nothing in sight for miles, aside from the seemingly endless ocean. Circinus prowls on deck, his nose twitching as he inhales the salty air, before he chooses a prime location, near the stern, to mark his territory. Lana leans against the railing, scowling at the mastiff as he cocks his leg and the stream of urine sprays a few of the crew members, from the ever forceful winds. If she thought the water was choppy back in Cenril, it was much harsher away from port! A few people had gotten seasick, and some of the healers had kindly handed out sprigs of mint to chew on to settle their stomachs. The witch is nursing a slight headache, and seems unable to kick the doomsday scenarios that continuously run through her mind. Was her intuition giving her a fair warning about things to come further down the line? Was she merely a bundle of nerves as this was their first grand adventure? Why was Scandal’s strange girlfriend giving her some serious side eye? Lana wasn’t amused by most of her brother’s antics, and the salamander hanging on his arm earns herself a not-so-subtle flip of the bird. Spitting out the shred of mint, the witch next sets her sights on Diin, a mere stranger. She hadn’t recalled him at any of the previous meetings, and she was positive that he wasn’t one of her guild members, as she privately recruited each of them. A half-smile is given as she walks past him, dipping her head in greeting, “You know… Horses are a much more comfortable ride, and much faster.” The donkey hadn’t gone unnoticed, neither had the magical aura that seeped through his skin. Another spellcaster was always welcome in the woman’s company.


Beyond giving Khitti his attention for her words, and nodding in her direction, Elioyahazer hasn’t bothered to even move since taking up his post at the port side of the ship. Sure their party was now joined by another odd male, Dyraxdiin, who previously spoke. He decided it was best to just remain in place, his arms still folded and his attention seems to stay fixed upon the horizon. Despite the choppiness of the ocean battering the ship, he is ever stoic in his presence and persistent beyond words - finally shifting a hand to the rails to keep his balance. This man is an enigma to most, but it seems that he is letting those things slip away. Besides, this journey is the -last- thing on his mind. Other matters seemed, well, more pressing. Even with the promise of tornados and shark attacks. Despite that blessing of their spiritualist, the aura in general, Eli is still lost in those thoughts; even in his more relaxed state. Eventually he breaks this facade and gives a wave to both Khitti and Scandal. The unknown male Dyraxdiin only receives an awkward glance.


Aira keeps herself busy throughout the first leg of their journey. Prowling the desk from bow to aft to starboard to port and back again. Occasionally, she calls out to the crewmen who work the sails, barking at them to adjust canvas to remain on course. As she circles back to the stern she hears some sailors grumble about the dog whose urine had been blown in their direction. “Ah, get over yourselves, you lousy rapscallions. It’s just a bit of piss,” she rolls her eyes at them as they grumble at the navigator and makes her way towards Sebastian, who grips the spokes of the ship’s wheel with his calloused yet careful hands. Aira notes that he looks more at ease than she had ever seen him. Despite the somberness of this adventure and her initial anxieties about navigating the fleet of ships, the sea looked good on Aira who welcomed the salty breeze on her freckled face and the russet color fur of her ears and tail. “Want me to take over for a bit so you can get something to eat?” she asks him. Bast grins at his childhood friend and shakes the shaggy brown hair out of his even darker eyes. “Naw, I’m good. But you should get something.” It’s Aira’s turn to shake her head before she moves to the railing and leans her forearms against it, closing her eyes as a cool spray of water caresses her face. “I’m good, too,” she murmurs.


Dyraxdiin pushes away the gentle aura offered by Khitti with a magical thought, preferring his thoughts over the presence of some God. Instead he focuses his attention on the passing Lanara - a witch, perhaps? An oddity having grown increasingly common over the last several years, it seems. "Yes, but that farmer and his family needed the silver more than my preference for either animal." His voice is a deep bass, capable of puncturing the otherwise constant raucous of battering waves and sea-winds, a surefire sign of a man accustomed to authority. His eyes casually follow Lanara, "I have come as a representative of the Mage's Guild, to see this through." As leading member of the guild, he felt it necessary to make it known that the Mage's Guild stands fast with any who oppose a foe with such wanton disregard for balance. Scrying has proven its usefulness once again. Dyraxdiin finds himself a barrel to sit on and, after having first exchanged looks with any who might be curious of his arrival, begins meditating... or sleeping, it's hard to tell, but the sloshing of the ships forward progress makes either rather difficult.


Khitti mostly kept to herself, as she still wasn’t entirely familiar with everyone present, besides Lanara and Aira. She’d retreated to her room below deck, but kept her door open in case things went downhill fast. Before that, of course, she would’ve waved towards the now unmasked ‘Sandman’. Many seemed on edge and Khitti hated that she didn’t have the strength to ease all of their worries; the very thought of it was suffocating. During those long hours on their trip, she tried to comfort herself with one of her favorite stories: it was a series of thick black and white comic books and this one told the tale of a group of magical warriors that originated from the moon and surrounding planets in their universe, who were reborn on a planet similar to the one Lithrydel was a part of, and fought many different forms of evil in order to protect their new home. It only helped for a little while before Khitti was left to shut the book, toss it back into her satchel, and stare out the window of her cabin in silence. “You’re going to be fine. This isn’t at all like Venturil or the Shadow Plane. This is just like one of those adventures you went on with Lionel and Brand and the Warrior’s Guild,” she said to herself at length, and kept telling herself in her head.


Lanara paused as Dyraxdiin commanded her attention, his tone holding a strength that most didn’t possess. His words are absorbed, and she gives a quick nod, agreeing that helping out one’s fellow man was of greater importance than seeking a comfortable carrier. “The Mage’s Guild, hmm? Well, the more the merrier! It’s good to have another that can wield magic… Crimson Cloak won’t be easy to defeat, and I’m honored that you are joining the ranks, even if it’s only for this trip. Who knows? You may develop a taste for adventure.” Speaking of the guild makes her seek out a few of the members, though none seem to be nearby. Scandal was likely necking with Blue, Khitti headed to her cabin, and Aira was busy manning the boat. Lanara is visibly growing restless, as she had been pacing for a good thirty minutes, already consumed with boredom. They had been at sea for about eight hours now, and were just passing the halfway marker to Twister Island. So far, despite a few people cheating at card games, and several members bending over the railing to spill the contents of their lunch from the constant lurching of the ship, everything was running smoothly. The hair lifts on the back of her neck, and for some strange reason, she feels compelled to look to the right. Nothing is there, save for the darkening sky, as dusk was rapidly nearing. A chill runs down the center of her spine, and she wraps her arms tightly around her, crossing over to the other side of the deck so that she can pull a sweater from her backpack. In passing, she nearly collides with Eli, “Oops! I’m sorry… Hey… How are you holding up?” Obviously, her question holds a deeper intent than asking if he liked being at sea, and she gently squeezes his bicep. “I wa-” Vocals come to a cease as a feeling of dread takes hold of the witch, and her nails lightly dig into the assassin’s arm, as again, her attention is drawn to the east. “Good Goddess!” The tingling in her veins, the incessant pulsing in her ears, the racing heartbeat, all of these were adding up to the vision before her eyes. She wasn’t merely a woman with the willies, the actual cause of her intuition had come to fruition. A pitch black aura manifests, and at once, the witch knows that some form of dark magic is afoot. “Sandman! We’re all in -severe- danger!” Those closest would read the worry on Lana’s pale face, as she weighs her options. Should everyone head to their cabins, where they may be safest? Brace themselves for the impact on deck? Or… Defend their place at sea, and engage in a battle between darkness and light?


(Post 1 of 2) Elioyahazer || Far off the starboard side of the ship, way out in the distance a terrible aura begins to bloom; blossom in the way that parasites and fungus seem to spread of their own accord. The wind literally begins to howl, like screaming mad men, even if it felt that way before. It is literally bellowing now. Rain, never felt before on this ship begins to pelt the faces of the crew members, making sight and balance hard. From somewhere onboard a man’s voice can be heard “Tie yer’selves off to the ships! Lest ya be thrown o’erboard!” Without further warning the menace behind such a malignant presence reveals itself. Several floating, humanoid, entities, enshrouded by wind and water emerge several hundred feet off of the ship. They were human, but not. Twisted things imbued by the presence of the elements. They work in unison, to attempt at destroying the vessels which seek to make their way through these claimed waters. The ocean rises via the calling of magic, swelling in size before them. It’s a rogue wave, sent to capsize the brave adventurers. Next an elemental blast of air thrown straight at the entire group, knocking down an area of crew and random members. Some even cast out into the cold depths of the ocean where they scream of random wounds - created by the impact against wooden rails, cargo and perhaps other people! They circle and swarm, preparing themselves for even more ludacris attacks. Swooping in from ridiculous angles to attack Khitti, Scandal and Dyraxdiin with metal weapons, intent on ending their lives outright. The aforementioned people now have two attackers each coming for them. It seems that from nowhere, the enemy has come and now all must fight for their lives! But the chaos does not stop, and more continue to rise from the depths of the salty sea...


(Post 2 of 2) Elioyahazer finds his attention upon the horizon stifled. Yanked back into reality when Lanara clutches his arm as she does. He wouldn’t lie, and pretend like his mind had been on the tasks at hand. Like the sun setting in the distance, his mind had been that far off. But by the reaction written upon her features to whatever she’s feeling he knows something is coming. And then he catches sight of the enemies off of starboard side. The opposite side he found himself standing at! “Lookout Lana!” Elioyahazer nearly bellows, grabbing her by the waist in time to brace himself, and her, for the gust of wind that blasts the area, sending unaware men into a dangerous path with random objects. The sandman looks to her once, straining beneath the pelting rain to even do so, while others haphazardly tie themselves to the ship. He turns his attention to the fellow guild members, who seems to be in shambles and without direction and order. Were they all doomed? Eli shifts to where his crates lay, popping their lids off in a hurry. “There’s more ammo in here! Use whatever you need!” The desert born moves into action, pulling free his own harpoon - slipping the spear beneath the railing and then loading it into his weapon. Why? To give the rope attached to it leverage! He takes aim, a deep breath and fires the barbed tip off into the distance; piercing an enemy straight through the stomach. He works fast to lodge the gun against the crates, grabs the rope and literally yanks it back with all of his might. In this instance, an enemy is disemboweled, spilling its innards mid air and crashes into the sea. Hopefully others were following suit. But the wave that screams towards them, worries him. “Lana!” He yells once more, “Can you handle that?” A single digit points to that wave which could obliterate them all. She, out of all the others is named because of his experience with her. Seeing the witch perform many such powerful deeds before. Perhaps he felt she was their only chance? He certainly didn’t know anyone else here or their abilities.


Aira can sense that something is off before it’s even upon them, even before she consciously -knows- some type of danger is intercepting their path. The vulpine ears atop her head twitch and flatten and her bushy tail swishes in an agitated manner. Just before Lanara calls out for the Sandman, warning him of their imminent danger, Aira already knows it’s too late to escape it, whatever -it- is. The force of the sudden wind threatens to topple the huntress overboard as she tightens her grip on the railing, her face lifting to the torrential downpour that pelts them to find the source of the voice calling out to tie themselves to the boat. Aira is spurred into action, the vixen lifting her arm to shield herself from the teeming rain as she staggers towards the center of the deck and the crewmen manning the sails. “Sebastian! Keep the bow pointed towards the waves! Don’t waver, we need to reduce the strain!” she calls out over her shoulder to her trusted helmsman. As much as she wants to fight whatever entity, or entities, were attacking their fleet, the offensive strikes wouldn’t do them any good if they capsized! “Sailors! Reef the mainsail! I repeat, reef the mainsail!” she yells herself nearly hoarse, calling out to her men over the crashing waves, the roaring wind, and the other screams aboard the ship. Aira cups her hands over her mouth as she approaches the crewmen handling the sails, nearly blown off course but a strong gale of wind. “Hoist the storm jib!” Everything becomes overly chaotic as Aira ignores her first instinct which is to fight in favor of keeping the boat afloat during this magical storm. She would have to trust her other guild mates to take the offensive in her wake just as they were (hopefully) trusting her to navigate them as safely as possible. A familiar fire alights within her and Aira’s voice booms over all else as she continues to shout out orders. “Keep the bow pointed at the waves! Reef the mainsail! Hoist the storm jib! Drop the anchor!” Someone manning the semaphore flags quickly raises the large red canvas with a black square in the center, indicating a storm. While it was too late for their fleet, Aira spared a moment of pride at their ability to maintain their orders despite the chaos.


Scandal own cabin was less to his liking, namely because of the body he shared it with. Thankfully she seemed content to be unpacking the sea chest which gave him time to be able escape to the deck. His own gaze watching the waters, and his eyes seeking out would be so called lunches for further note. Despite what people saw of him in this draconian state he was in fact a dragon. One of titanic size, and was in fact a mana well, with no current observable well’s bottom. Leaning against the railing of the ship he was silent, only to turn his head slightly offering an eye nod to Sandman, and then to the stranger Dyraxdiin when he caught his eye. He listened to the conversations, until the boat is suddenly rocked and the enemies make their landing, upon the ship. Hearing the voice of his compatriots he is made aware of the the present danger, and turning he rams his left fist into one, which immediately is sent into the wind, from the force behind it, and then another he strike punching through the enemies chest sending spinal fragments and rib bones out the backside. Whipping his tail around he knock an additional one off its feet, and grabs him by the head crushing its head and tossing it overboard. He tries to land eyes on the one from the mages guild, “Draw your magic from me, use it.” He says as he opens the barriers that hold back the flow of magic, allowing access, “Lana, me, mana duh.” He eyes the enemies how many more?


Dyraxdiin's meditation is brought to an abrupt end with the falling of rain and the cacophony of the battle erupting all around them. His thoughts immediately transcend beyond his simple human frame and take in the carnage upon the deck, alongside the hull and further out yet. Monsters of the deep? He finds himself pondering as he triggers a plethora of pent up arcane prowess in one staggering moment. The ocean begins to evaporate and then freeze, inches above the wild waters to either side of the ship. In one kinetic moment of surging mana, a wall of ice acts as buffer to the wave that assuredly crashes forth into it. Diin grunts beneath the strain and is forced to sidestep an attacker who is thankfully dispatched by Scandal. A quick cursory look around the ship shows men and women all engaged in a life or death battle with the assailants. The Wyrm must react. Changing gears from defense to offense, Dyraxdiin consumes a vast swathe of energy from his unknowing protector Scandal, and rears his head back in an age-old testament to that which follows. The Gray Wyrm inhales deeply, then exhales in a terrifying show of sonic force, imbued with Scandal's mana, that which bested the likes of even Larewen herself - a real banshee's wail. The wall of ice shatters into a myriad of sparkling shards and are propelled forth beyond, into those who are preparing to board and any poor fish or sea creature that happened to be caught in the crossfire. Diin crumples to his knees, barely alert enough to keep an eye out for those that might descend on him further yet.


Khitti felt that surge of darkness and dread, and a chill ran down her back. The templar grabbed her weapons and ran to the top deck, skidding to a stop just as the winds blew ship and crew alike, the redhead just barely able to hook Diamond Dust onto the nearest object that was rooted firmly in place on the ship. No sooner did that happen was she soon being attacked by these strange elemental creatures! With her bow now unhooked and her feet planted on the deck again, Diamond Dust was used as a shield, doing her best to block both blows from each of her attackers. The metal weapons chipped away at the bow’s black ice structure and when Khitti was gifted a brief respite in between attacks, arrows were loosed towards the creatures, the projectiles exploding into shards of ice on contact thanks to Diamond Dust’s magic. Hoping that it distracts them long enough, Khitti then conjured up holy fire, sending it in a wide arc in front of her, and out towards the creatures in a cone. Assuming that Scandal and Dyraxdiin could handle themselves, Khitti would deal with anymore creatures that might threaten the rest of the ship, using that same holy fire and ice bow to do it.


(Post 1 of 2) Lanara is frozen in place, uncertainty in her gaze, as she looks from the weapon-wielding forms that are slaying their crewmates, to the storm that brews with as much potency as a bubbling cauldron. The wind shifts the boat off course, the gears creaking as they fight to stay afloat, and Lana is trying to think of something, anything, to save the lives of the people that are her responsibility. She was a leader, and she was not one to flee at the sight of danger. And so, she prepares to do the exact opposite, and meet the weather demon’s head on, when the powerful gust hits without warning. Those that had not managed to tie themselves to a heavy object are haphazardly tossed overboard, or sent tumbling along the deck, likely sustaining various injuries. The ships in the rear of this particular galley are given earlier warning, as they can hear the screams, see their friends battling, and witness the storm that encompasses the area. Hopefully, they were wise enough to drop an anchor and wait for this battle to complete. It would spare their lives. The first ship is no longer in sight, the scouts had met their demise, sadly. Lana tries to mentally fight the macabre, and come to her senses, when Eli grabs her around the waist and braces against her form for impact. She heaves a sigh of relief, trembling in his arms, and she gives a slow nod as he makes his way towards the crates. “Cover me.” She wouldn’t be able to battle the storm, as well as those that threatened to bash her with a sword or maul. It was now or never. Life or death. Fight or flight. To Scandal she gives a shake of her head, “I would rather you look after those on deck. Protect those that don’t have the means to defend themselves.”


(Post 2 of 2) Lanara :: Walking towards the figurehead of the boat, Lana looks at the wave, her breath steadying. She -would- save them, at least against a tidal wave that would wreck their boat and send them to their graves. Arms outstretched, she closes her eyes and focuses on that inner power she’s been blessed with since birth. “Goddess, Goddess... Come to me. Spare their lives, and hear my plea. Slow these winds, and calm this sea, by the power of three times three. Use my spirit to bind this creed, as I speak it, so mote it be!” A clap of thunder is heard, as Lana opens her eyes and glares at the nearing wave, tilting her head back as it rises overhead. The witch doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t retreat, nor does she seem intimidated in the slightest. Water and Air were two elements that she held dear to her heart, and she knew that her call had been answered as the wind begins to blow in the opposite direction. Ever so slowly, with each passing heartbeat, the wave begins to recede from the boat, stopping it’s advance, as though it were now possessed by something other than the malevolent forms that wreaked havoc on the ship. Unbeknownst to the witch, it’s not entirely her efforts that had saved the ship and those upon it. Two shimmering walls form on both sides, pulling the once menacing wave to the extremities of the sea, only to have projectiles of ice sent forth, destroying any other humanoids that wished to inhabit the boat. The heavy rain continues, and the wind still manages to cast a powerful gust every now and again, but the deadly wave was no longer an issue. Drenched to the bone, her long locks blowing wildly about her head, Lana turns to lock eyes with Diin, and though they are both suddenly exhausted, she doesn’t leave the male to be hacked into pieces by their assailants. Snatching a harpoon from the deck, she stands over the wyrm, guarding the male that she had combined efforts with moments ago. She dares anyone to come their way.


(Post 1 of 2) Elioyahazer :: Even with the smashing Scandal rampaging and crushing heads. With Eli shooting assailants down and Khitti’s diamond dust explosions. Dyraxdiins awe inspiring wail of destruction, you might think that these forces would just give up and go home. But that isn’t the case. The elementally imbued humanoid creatures find themselves torn asunder in such awe inspiring wails. Bits of gore a red vitae litter the area in a show of raw power and ice. However, their presence is replaced almost as quickly as they are destroyed! They blast through what little ice remains within the water and rise from its murky depths, to continue their onslaught! The crimson cloaks minions would never give up so easily! However the rogue wave meant to crash and batter against the ship and capsize it finds itself dismantled. Torn apart at the power of both Lanara and Dyraxdiin. The ship finds itself pushing forward through the hazards of the sea, presented by these twisted humanoids. Other enemies find their deaths swift. Other’s not so, but no matter. The horde continues to increase growing beyond the original few that had spawned. Climbing up the sides of the ships from the salty depths below, until every enemy is now visible. Weapons in hand, like raiding pirates ready to eviscerate the crew found on board. The few elementals that remain weaving spells work together once more, sending a swift blast of air at the masts and the sails - Those precious items which keep those ships moving forward. The others, which have finally made their climb up the sides of the ship and land upon the rain covered deck, prepare themselves. Once more axes, swords and knives are being thrown, thrust or slashed at the various people around. Despite all the chaos a few run straight for the ammo cache where crew members continuously gather more ammunition. Elioyahazer, the man calling out orders would find himself under attack, by three individual targets who are hell-bent on causing more disorder. Beyond the aforementioned, their spells seem to be weakening, as if there might actually be an end in sight.


Elioyahazer / [post 2 of 2] || Elioyahazer finds himself shifting his attention to Lanara, grabbing new spear tips to fire at any enemy which seeks to stop her from that mission she seeks to accomplish. That spring is pulled back with little effort, and reloaded. An enemy nearby Lanara, who seeks to swoop in and end her life, finds his own over in moments; Being killed with a barbed spear long before he even threatens to endanger her life physically. For a moment there is a brief pause, to watch in amazement as the fellow guild members fight back with their own abilities. He’s amazed by what he sees. Meanwhile, others have begun to rally around the crate, snatching new ammo and taking aim for the flying beasts. When the waters calm his attention shifts to the few elementally imbued humans still hovering off of starboard side. “Take them down!” He points and bellows to his fellow crew members, “Someone stop their casting!” He knew they would try to continue assaulting the ship, and had to find a way to stop their magics before too much damage rendered this ship useless. But the Sandman is no tactician, he could only guess that this was the best way to organize the others. Once more his attention is pulled away. One of the three assailants caught Eli off guard, and collides with him in a forceful charge. The weapons expert finds himself letting out a surprised yelp, hitting the wet deck with enough force to send the wind running from his lungs. The attacker is on top of him, suddenly plunging a dagger towards his midsection. The desert born has no choice but to shove his left arm in the blades path, where it misses his chain shirt entirely, but bites into the flesh of his arm. Another sharp inhale of breath is taken out of spite and pain, but relief is found when crew members pull the enemy off of him. Eli gathers his wits, pulls the dagger from his arm and sticks the pointy end into the fool who just hurt him. With a grunt, he rises to his feet, nearly slipping in the torrential rain. The other two which sought to destroy the central ammo cache find themselves shot down by barbed spear tips wielded by fellow guildies. He has grown tired, and gasps for breath, cupping a hand over his injured forearm. Would this be over soon? The other crew members continually fire and aim to kill the creatures above, whilst even more find themselves locked in armed combat.


Aira :: “Aira! I…can’t…hold…it!” The strained words reach the vixen’s ears as she whips around to find Sebastian slammed by a rogue barrel, and thrown to the deck, rolling several feet away. The ship’s wheel immediately begins to spin rapidly, turning them starboard and parallel to the waves. The helmsman grunts as he tries to right himself once more but Aira is already dashing across the deck, grasping at the spokes of the wheel as she attempts to cease their off-course maneuvers. The force of the wheel and the raging storm cause her wrist to twist, the huntress crying out in pain as she feels a pop within her joint. She presses on despite the excruciating pain, willing all her strength to steady the boat, the muscles in her arms and abdomen tensing with the strain. She manages to halt the wheel, but any attempt to steer them back on course is lost on the injured navigator. Thankfully, Sebastian finds his footing and despite a gash on his forearm from the fall, he seems unscathed. With their combined efforts the pair angle the bow perpendicular to the waves to press through the storm. Aira doesn’t want to think about the enemy that climbs aboard their ship, she needs to keep her focus on the ship and her remaining crew. Even as another gust of wind threatens their sails, the navigator’s orders have not gone unheard, the storm jib hoisted into place while the mainsail was reefed. “Anyone not manning sails, go help the Sandman!” She wasn’t sure if she had any additional crew members left, but if there were, they would join the weapons expert with ammunition to help fight off the attackers.


Scandal felt the draw on his well and strangely to his delight, he felt relieved as if something that had constantly been building pressure within him was suddenly eased. No it wasn’t empty, far from it, but its like as if just a little bit of pressure had been released from a balloon that was always threatening to pop. He grabbed an enemy with his hand and then another as they were about to asail first crew and then Dyraxdiin, bashing them together so that they shattered upon impact he turned around and punched a particularly large enemy back so that it sailed into a group of enemies sending them hurling into the sky with such force that briefly the clouds opened before they resealed. He moved quick, in that inhuman sort of way reflexes catching missed spear throws, arrows and axes, and redirecting them inhuman force, at their targets, his deep rich voice bordering on the demonic laughed, as he felt the thrill of the battle, it seemed to boom through the storm, briefly for but a second causing the rain itself to stop motionless as if somehow he had landed such a low note that resonated with it. “Is this the best they can do!?!”


Dyraxdiin nods his head in thanks to the woman who was several hours ago, a complete stranger. He swipes his hand through the air and grabs hold of his Xalious Staff, which seemingly appears out of thin air. "I'll be fine now, please help the others." His voice maintains that ever-strong quality as before, his blue eyes to redirect on the attackers. Dyraxdiin's secret has been out for years now, why does he continue to hide his true nature? The mage shakes his head and releases his hold on part of his transformation spell. Instead of a full change into the massive wyrm that would assuredly crush this ship and all who dwell within, something more suited for battle comes into play. His right arm extends and grows in size, sharp talons and scales glisten in the rain as he flexes. Two of his six wings burst forth from his back and scythe into a would-be attacker, ripping him apart and then discarding his remains into another. His Xalious staff releases an audible hum, held firmly in his still-human left hand. The wyrm thrusts the staff into the face of another, his head to explode in a stringy show of blood and brain matter, just as a sharp sting of electric energy streaks forth in the form of chain lightning. Dyraxdiin grabs the crumpling form of the headless foe with his dragon-right arm and hurls the lifeless form at another advancing on Elio. Diin's breathing is ragged, his grip on sanity waning - he can feel the draw of the Feral with each resounding movement.


Khitti had been through a lot lately. Hell, she’d been through a lot throughout her entire life. Her writer could list all the things that’s happened to Khitti and likely still forget some of them. This? This thing happening on the ship right now? This felt like a breeze compared to Venturil. To the Shadow Plane. To being kept as a pet by a dragon obsessed with magic. To even dying and being reborn again. This felt easy to her, despite the mess that was presently going on, and those emotions that’d been bottled up since her rescue were starting to come out. Sadness wasn’t the first, however. And neither was happiness. No, it was rage. Pure and simple anger. Khitti’s bow was slung across her shoulder as the enemies swarmed the ship. Tenbatsu Kaji was withdrawn and all of those months of training from a year ago flooded back to her. There was even a dash of Lanara’s ballet training in there. It’s not like she’d forgotten it; rather, it was more that she just hadn’t had any ambition. For so long there’d been a lack of motivation that she’d forgotten what it was like to fight -for herself- and not for a town of people who didn’t give a frak about anyone but themselves, whether they were mind-controlled by the enemy or not. Fire erupted from the sword’s blade, its color starting at a warm gold and shifting rather quickly to a deep red. Close-quarters fighting was the name of the game now with these elementals and that’s when Khitti truly felt alive. Blades would crash into each other and sparks would fly as she fought them off. Wounds were gifted to Khitti here and there as the elementals’ blades cut through her leather armor, but still she fought on, even if it seemed like nothing was touching them. The templar heard the Sandman’s instructions, her attention shifting towards the casters at the side of the ship. She was hoping this trip would go by uneventfully. She was hoping to save her strength to tap into her magic armor for later on during the big fight. The whole outfit wasn’t necessary, but Khitti summoned up the circlet that was a part of the set and plucked it off her forehead. With a flick of her wrist, the headpiece flew towards the casters and circled around them, creating a cyclone of holy fire. What had been used in the past to protect others was now being used to cage in the elementals, the fire quickly closing in around them.


(Post 1 of 2) Lanara :: Many were hurt, a few were dead, and the rain continues to pelt down atop their fighting forms. The planks are coated with an inch of rain, and slipping is inevitable. The sails of the ship are tattered, the humanoids continue their assault on the crew, and the mastiff ran off at the start of the fight, with his tail tucked between his legs. Circinus was helpless against magic, and likely was in one of the cabins, safely hidden beneath a bed. Aira managed to keep them above water, and looked as though she was ready to celebrate. Scandal was feeling the adrenaline surging through his form from the after effects of battle. Elioyahazer had sustained a minor injury, that would require suturing, though it was his cache of weapons that had tipped the scales in their favor. Diin, the fellow from the Mage’s Guild, was apparently a badass wyrm, more than capable of handling himself. He’d be an asset against Crimson Cloak, most definitely. And Khitti, the spiritualist of the group had showed off a warriors prowess that the most brutal of men would envy. The redhead’s dance instructor would have applauded some of those ballet moves, had she not been inserted into a battle of her very own. Thankfully, the blessed circlet works to dispel some of the negative energy surrounding the ship, and the fog seems to lift. Lanara stands at the rear of the ship, the harpoon still in her hand as she dances on the balls of her feet, aiming to strike her attacker in the middle. The barbed tip narrowly misses the target, as she takes a hit to her right thigh. Pain shoots up and down her leg, blood pools in her leggings, and she swallows the scream that threatens to escape her lips. Using her final reserve of strength, she hurls herself forward, arm outstretched, and she hits nothing more than air, before her form meets the deck with a violent thud. The humanoid had vanished! Pushing herself to her feet, she looks around, dark eyes filled with confusion, as though she suspected shadow magic was at play. Slowly but surely, the few remaining attackers disappear from sight, the storm dissipates, and the dark aura fades, leaving nothing more than a star-filled sky in its wake. They had won the battle, due to their fast thinking, unique set of skills, and strength in numbers. It was over… For now.


(Post 2 of 2) Lanara limps along the deck, dragging her right leg, as she applies pressure to the wound. It wasn’t a fatal slice, but it would require stitches. The familiar figurehead is where she finds herself walking, and once there, she catches her breath. She hadn’t expected them to encounter anything of this nature, at least not while at sea. They all had knowledge about Crimson Cloak having superior abilities, but they hadn’t bargained to be attacked -before- they even made it to their destination. Would this entire journey be one of hardship? Lana knows it’s her duty to set things straight, for her guild, and for the natives on the island. In the morning she’d give them all a pep talk, in hopes to raise morale. For now, however, it was best that they tended to the wounded, threw the deceased overboard and held a mass funeral, and arranged a proper night watch. She lingers beside the shark figure, studying it as though she were seeing the sea beast through new eyes, and after a few moments, she addresses the crowd that had formed at her feet. “We have lost many… We still may lose more. But we have won. We’ve had our first taste of victory… It’s too early to celebrate, but I urge all of you to see a healer. Emilia is the most advanced medic in the realm, and she’ll see to those of you with serious injuries. And those of you that aren’t too wounded or spent from battle, I’d appreciate it, if you would take a few hours to keep watch for any further threats. If you fall somewhere in between needing a healer and keeping watch… Please, retire to your cabin.” There’s a pause, as Lana’s heart swells with pride. This team had surpassed her expectations. “I’m heading to the Captain’s Quarters to work on replacing the flags and repairing the sails. I will be working on preparations for when we arrive at our destination, and I do not wish to be disturbed.” This couldn’t happen again, not on her watch, and she’d mourn the loss of those that died, in the coming days. No further words would be voiced, as she hobbles out of view, clearly desiring privacy.


Elioyahazer has seen better days, and plunges his harpoon into the wooden planks beneath his feet. The item in question becomes something that he uses to prop himself against. It would seem that the attack is over for now. His mutated eyes scan the horizons for any other sign of their presence. Much to his surprise it seems that they have all vanished or been killed. His attention shifts to the sails, which are mostly intact. Finally the guild members and fellow crew have his attention. How many were lost? How many were injured? He scoffs at the attack that had come from nowhere. Were they even prepared for such a thing? Not likely. Thank the gods that be, each person here was more than capable. As the weapons expert, Eli peers into the crates, and realizes that the ammo he had left might just be enough to complete their task. He had ordered more than requested, but clearly had not planned for this entire voyage. From here on out, they might be at a disadvantage. Perhaps a change of tactics would be needed? His gaze finally settles on Lanara, who gives her speech and wanders off towards her cabin. Eli nods once to her words and meanders away to find himself a healer. But otherwise, the enigma that is the Sandman, remains quiet. Falling silent as he once was before.


Aira blinks in surprise as the attack seems to dissipate just as quickly as it appeared. Gone were the violent humanoid figures, ceased was the fighting, dried up was the rain, and the huntress finds herself staring up at the vast constellations dotted in the inky black sky. She looks around the deck, breathing hard she attempts to find her bearings. She releases her white-knuckled grip on the ship’s wheel as her wrist gives a painful throb, her hand hanging at an unnatural angle. “You okay, Bast?” she asks him. “Just a flesh wound,” he answers with a small grin. “Better than you, anyway.” Aira begins to slosh across the deck, checking in on her remaining crew members, assessing them for injuries first and foremost. The navigator turns her attention to Lanara as she speaks before retiring to her quarters. Turning to Sebastian once more Aira inclines her chin in his direction. “You should get some rest.” Bast gives his head a firm shake. “That’s a negative, Aira. -You- are going to see a healer and then rest. I’ll take over for you and have Boden steer.” The navigator opens her mouth to argue but Sebastian immediately holds up a hand and cuts her off. “Stop being a stubborn wench and go!” he chides her with a grin. Aira fixes him with a narrowed glare, but eventually concedes, finding a healer to tend to her broken wrist and splint it before heading to her quarters where she would shuck off her wet clothing, pull on something dry and warm, and collapse on the bed.


Scandal drew in a sharp breath. Well described it might have been an adrenline high he was definitely having. He glanced at the now familiar dragon beside him. "It’s nice to know that there other dragons, that haven't yet descended into the feral, welcome." he said offering his hand, which might have been covered in gunk, but then what wasn't on the ship at this point. He notices Lanara, "Had to get hit once didn't you?" Unbeknownst to Scandal a spear was sticking head broken off was sticking in his side, and so far he wasn't noticing likely because he couldn't feel pain anymore. He nodded towards Eli and then to Khitti, "Nice fighting both of you, though I don't know how holy magic affects me so let’s not try using me for that kind of target practice just yet." He laughed heartily, "Pleasure fighting alongside you all. Even you Aira."


Dyraxdiin releases his hold on his staff, which returns to wherever it originated from just before it hits the deck. He accepts the offered hand and words of Scandal, "My thanks for your presence here. Though we do not share brood, I will always welcome you among my kin." His mention of the Feral causes a moment of troubling thoughts, none of which surface to show on his features. Just how close is he to forgetting who he is, the hundreds of thousands of years, everything that he has gained, lost and gained again? Instead of lingering on such thoughts, Diin turns and shakes his head in disapproval, mostly with himself. Had he not been so arrogant, thinking he could handle things in his human form and remain anonymous, he could have saved these people. This could have been a real victory. His eyes scan those fallen, dying or wounded. His face turns up in anger. Dyraxdiin, using his Saurian strength, leaps from the deck of the ship and completes his transformation into the six-winged, pure-gray dragon that he is. From here on, he circles his companions in flight, scouting out for miles around them in the breadth of a few wing-flaps. His presence is made known to any creatures lurking near with the ferocity of a piercing dragon's roar. They would not be taken by surprise again.


Khitti || Things soon dissipated: First the battle and then the attackers themselves. As things died down, the adrenaline began to wear off and Khitti, much like everyone else, was tired. She hadn’t been fully healed from her kidnapping and the torment that had ensued there and now it was all rushing back to the forefront of things. Cracked ribs were still healing and now old wounds were joined by new ones. It was a good thing she’d opted for the armor from the start. But, now they were torn in places they shouldn’t be, leaving wide open areas that shouldn’t be stabbed or slashed at, and Khitti likely wouldn’t have time to fix them amongst all the resting she needed before they finally reached their destination, as well as tend to her own wounds. Tenbatsu Kaji was sheathed once more and used somewhat like a walking stick, a nod and a faint smile offered to Scandal’s compliment and joke. She’d reward them all for their bravery and teamwork with as much as they could eat from her bakery if they came back. -When- they came back. As Lanara vacated the top deck, Khitti soon followed after her as best as she could, calling to the woman before she disappeared into her cabin, “Lanara… That was either a warning or something to distract us from something worse… or both.” Khitti would let her words linger in the air carefully before she too slunk into the darkness of her room, threw her weapons onto the floor, and passed out in her bed without even bothering to deal with the minor injuries that littered her form.