RP:Taking the Treasury
Part of the Tales from the Row Arc
Part of the Birds of A Feather Arc
Summanry: The Corsair, and Carrion Crow, launches a bold attack on an escorted Rynvalian Treasury ship headed to Cenril with a military payroll. The ship is taken was significant injury and deaths on both sides.
Characters/writers: Eliah, Arien as Treasury ship and captain, Hanan as escort vessel and captain.
Location: Rynvale; Land Ho.
Eliah waited for half the night on the damned treasury ship, the Betrayal lay just a few hundred yards to his starboard, ready as his own precious vessel. They had been getting more and more crafty, Rynvale and her merchants and the like. There was word now that this ship was guarded. With his activities he could understand why. Arien's city would become more and more desperate. He was playing a dangerous game, but perhaps the lack of funds would keep any privateers from taking up whatever bounties she might offer when she learned it was him causing the mess. Either way he releases a sigh, the puff of exhaled smoke wisping into the ocean air as he put out the cigarette and swept the ocean once again for signs of the heavily laden craft and her battle-ready escort. There had been a rumor he'd heard, one that he muses over as he uses his spyglass slowly spanning the dim-lit horizon. They had already been talking of the blue-eyed devil harassing their vessels, perhaps he could let-... There it is... He readjusts his sights and nods. That's it, riding low with a warship before her. A grin consumes the forsaken high-born and he drops from the peak of the f'ocastle. motioning easily to his men. and giving a whistle, stating clearly, 'Ready all hands' as he moves to his spot behind the mainsail.
Hanan ::Captain Walker was the sensible sort. A planner. He kept his decks swabbed, his cannons loaded, and his men properly lashed. This escort mission would be like clockwork, he decided. If he flew a big enough flag, if he made sure the cannons poked just so out of their doors, if he made sure he stood high at the stern, right next to the helmsman, with his most captain-y hat on, everything would be alright. He would Impress. Periodically he would send a message to the man in his crow's nest--"Anyone?"--and the man would simply reply no. "Anyone?" "No." So for a good half the night he stood there, hands clasped loosely behind his back. It was not until he heard the shout--"A ship!"--that he sprang into action. Action being: nothing. They would continue being Impressive. "Keep the course," he told the helmsman, raising a hand to twist the end of his neatly waxed mustache. "Push the cannons out a bit. And untangle that blasted flag."
Arien: The Phoenix sat low in the water, weighted with the silver gold and copper en route to what was left of free Cenril. There would be little enough sign of movement on deck. Hatches were battened down, as if against a pending storm. Locked. Sealed. And within, standing on restless, nervous guard, not sailors..soldiers. Proud and stately the lines of the High Born carved into sinew and bone. Light weight armor, swords at the ready..for anything. The skeleton crew above were the bare minimum needed to keep the ship in forward motion. There was no light upon the ship. It cut the darkness, like a black shadow, sails dark. Stealth mode..or what might pass for it. Helpless, almost in the water, save for that vigilant guard. They would drop anchor in the northern coves, where the general of the standing regiment of high elven guard remained to lead some measure of resistance against the onslaught of lawlessness. He would come for his pay..and that of every soldier under his command. Tired soldiers..who longed for the open air of the island and time spent with family and friends. Gold made hard choices easier. There was no knowing what would happen to morale if that pay was lost. Losing it was not an option. “Stay alert men..” The quiet murmur of the commander below decks would be heard by those closest to him. And still the Phoenix sailed.
Eliah had planned this moment out in his head five times, every time he improved his process, every time he thought of a new way to get the guarding vessel out of commission with an easier action. The final plan is something Eliah could call bold, easy, swift... He liked every aspect of it. In all of his raids this would be the first time he employed the aid of another air-mage, the only time he could hurl two war-hardened vessels upon the target at once, rather than awaiting for them to arrive after the Enchantress. A murmur passes the commander's lips. " Three cannons with chain-shot to pepper the decks and drop her masts, make sure the Betrayal knows... The rest aim at her water line. I want the escort ship sinking within a half hour's time of our arrival at the latest." None could deny the roguish smirk that fixes upon the Carrion after his words and with a smoothing wave , his hands covered in a glowing paint to signal the fellow air mage positioned to mirror him on his fellow ship the attack commenses. Wind pouring into the black sails of each ship and surging them forwards closer upon Captain Walker and the treasury ship beyond. Both ships slipping from the shadows of the cloud-cast skies and into view at a pace unheard of by most of nautical practices both resembling black ghosts rather than the deadly reality they represent; their course taking them towards either side of their targets.
Hanan ::Captain Walker was the honorable sort. He played fair. "They have an air-mage." He'd said this quietly as his men scrambled above and below, moving the cannons into position, awaiting command. "Air-mage. The dishonorable bastards." He was not surprised. He knew what they would do. Chain shot, most likely--it is what he would do. There was not much one could do to guard against that, save make the mast from metal--a steel ship, rediculous. No, he could not save himself from that, exactly. Nor should he move; two ships he saw bearing down on him, not one; he could not go to one side of the merchant vessel and neglect the other. At the rate these ships were moving--cheating--he'd have to stay behind. Very well. Let them come. "Charles!" This was a shout, he wheeling about to face the main deck and his first mate. "Load scatter shot into the starboard and port cannons--all of them. Aim the top tier at the deck, the bottom at the cannon line... Don't fire until after their volley. Angle the others--point one starboard, one port... and wait for my signal." For the Captain was a patient man. He could wait, turning back and pacing down the quarter deck, grasping the rope of the bell that hung there; wait until the two black ships bore down, until he could make out the human figures of pirates on the deck; wait until just the right moment to right the bell with all his might and summon those cannons--those two beauties he kept right under the quarter deck, right under his own quarters, two great cannons manned by his best men, that suddenly burst out of their doors, bent outward at angles and fired a volley each straight toward the water lines of the oncoming bows. Would they cheat? He could cheat. It wasn't cheating to cheat against a cheater.
Arien: Beneath the darkened and sealed decks of The Phoenix, the escorting guard remained unaware of the dangers that lurked, or rather, approached with the swiftness of eagles. Soldiers leaned against the inner hull, arms wrapped around bodies and weapons against the winter chill that penetrated to the bone. The absence of light was the absence of heat, and the swell of the choppy seas beneath the prow of the treasury ship was just enough in the darkness to leave men who were not sailors, feeling the desire to have solid ground underfoot once more. It was the sound of alarm bells, clanging across the surface of the water, across the distance between the ship and its escort, that jolted the soldiers to action. The commander moved first, hustling to the portal that allowed for bellowed communication to the top decks. “The hell is going on?! Report!” he shouted to the captain up above. “Two birds on the water..comin’ in fast mate..hold on to yer britches, gonna try to get the hell outta this mess. Escort’s catchin it though..” Came the bellowed return. The navy captain had direct orders. Evasive action was his first priority. If he could head for one of the coves on shore…” Wheel spun hard to starboard, the captain seeking to catch the wind. “Load up the shot..just in case, line of defense only..” He barked the order, even as the ships bore down on the escort. So tempting. The Betrayal’s side should lay exposed if he flanked just right. Her focus set on current prey. “Ah.. the hell with it. Escape be dammed. “Wait till she’s set to fire, and let her have a volley men. The masts..can’t catch wind without a sail..”
Eliah wasn't a genius, no but he was naval minded, he could have figuered for a return fire for his vessels, and casualties at that, but the fact remained he had planned this night for a fight. The prows of his two ships near the seemingly beleaguered escort vessel that a shout bellows forth. " Two volleys on her decks with Arien and Aiya, use scatter shot, clear the decks boys!" The twin long-nine cannons groan and with the order bellow two shots as the attacking corsair's ships slow, drifting past the prow of the Escort ship. Following the four shots from the normally long-range cannons comes the deadly chain-shot and soon after it comes the first of two volleys aimed at the rynvale ship's waterline.
Hanan: Walker knew what to do after issuing that order. He ducked, holding his hat firmly on his head with a single hand. The helmsman followed suit, holding fast to lower handles, as did the first mate. Others were not so lucky. He could have sworn the chain shot would come first. The screams of those hit on the now running-red top deck were soon drowned out by the firing of Walker's cannons, aimed at the decks of the ships to either side; he too would sweep those decks. But soon after Walker watched his beautiful masts come down... dead in the water, that's what they were. It couldn't be helped. "Charles!" The enemy's fire was focused upon the merchant ship, this their... "What the devil are they doing?" Was the treasury ship... flanking? Gods damn them, they were. "Imbiciles!" He turned to the helmsman then; if the damn merchant ship refused to run, they had no choice now. "We've still got momentum. Turn this bloody thing; flank them to port." He turned; Charles, good man, he was already headed back below. "Load up our port cannons, normal shot--soon as our ship fires, you aim a volley straight at the pirates' backsides. Don't give them time to breathe!"
Arien: The sound of cannon fire ricocheted through the night, deep throaty booms that told a tale of hell unleashed above. In the hold beneath, the High Born soldiers were privy to the resounding echo and violent pitch of the vessel as it was swung to..back on itself in attempt to get outside the assaulting ship. “Fire!...” came the muffled cry of the captain above decks. The Phoenix rocked. Cannon shot whistled across the rapidly closing distance. It was dark..ghost ships made particularly difficult targets, and the masts of said targets even harder to acertain.with only one volley to spare before attempt was made at following orders. Shot hurtled across the top deck of the Betrayal, tearing into railing and biting chunks out of the hull high above the waterline. Some flew true, and slammed into the lower and middle sections of the mainmast, others ripped through cloth and sail. Such a hasty volley, aimed on the run even as wheel was turned to port to flee..might not do as much damage as was hoped, but the vessel should be slowed down, distracted, taking injuries of not casualties. “Get us the hell outa here lads..Gods willin’, Walker has slowed em down enough to give our good sails a better chance at makin’ a run of it..” he barked. But they were low and heavy in the water. “ And loose me some gods be dammed ballast..I need her lighter!”
Eliah was prepared for an attack mirroring his own. He'd found cover, easier than three of his crew, and several more from the Betrayal. The screams are muted to his ears however, and the Carrion Crow bellows another order to the crew of his vessel; none lag save the injured, and the firing of cannons is an orchestra of death. The Betrayal under the tutelage of her improvised captain in his friend the master gunnar, manages to catch on to the aims of the heavily laden treasury ship. The mainmast creaks, groaning softly but manages to remain as she began, upright, though weakened; No more using the air mage tonight. " Roll out our guns both sides, prepare t'fire on the merchant vessel. Pepper her cannon ports and decks, clear and shatter her wheel, I don't want that ship escaping!" The men step to, the wounded struggle to find cover, and Eliah doesn't worry over his skilled old human friend. Instead he is focused on the escort vessel, rushing with the rock of the ship under his booted feet before he leaps, long legs pistoning out as he drives himself upwards from the railing over, and towards the Rynvalian vessel over the ten yard expanse of air and water between them. " Take her now boys! Boardin' crew come, gunning crew take her at the water lines!!!" The yips and shouts are lost as he draws his blade, landing near the middle of the vessel whilst the rest of his boarding crew, a group of heavily skilled and armed men, with a smattering of women, numbering near thirty. The second mate of the Enchantress turns her, swiftly cutting to block the escort ship and in turn keep close to the captain whom has begin cutting a swathe through the slowing and crippled ship.
Hanan ::Oh shyte. "We're being boarded!" The bearded gentleman on the prow had relayed that very useful information right before taking a blade to the shoulder and going down with a gutteral scream. At this point Captain Walker didn't have to issue much in the way of orders--he couldn't be heard over the din anyway. Eliah's men (and girls too, how progressive of him!) would be dealing with a deck slick with blood and a flood of men coming up from the lower decks, armed to the teeth and desperate. Walker soon knew why; somehow Charles managed to be heard over the clanging and screaming. "Captain! We're takin' on water!" Walker gritted his teeth, up there on the quarterdeck. So, they were going to sink. Lovely. A hand was planted on the helmsman's shoulder. "Try to keep us righted as long as you can," he muttered, drawing his cutlass--and readjusting his magnificent hat. "The man who jumped over first, I believe he's their leader. I am going to remove his head." With that, good Captain Walker strode down the steps, skirted the worst of the combat--Eliah may have had better fighters overall, but at least Walker's men outnumbered them--and made as direct a path to the gentleman in question as possible, blade at the ready. Captains fought captains. That's simply how it was -done.-
Arien: Even as he had given the order, the captain had felt that sinking in his chest. The heaviest ballast on board was the one thing they could not give over. Its weight in gold. The ship was rolling hard to, the captain at the wheel in battle with the vessel in his attempt to bring it about and catch the wind. It was a slow, lumbering beast in a school of leaping fish, it felt like. Eyes lifted, looking over his shoulder just in time to see the Betrayal bearing down on him like a bat out of hell- or so it would morbidly seem, despite her wounded status. Now -he- was the one with the vulnerable flank, and he knew what was coming, because it was what he would have done. The captain remained at the wheel. Shot tore into the ship, ripping holes into the hull and that hold below deck. The cries of the wounded would be matched only by those of the dying captain at his post as the wheel splintered in his hands below shot. Directionless, the ship slowed..came to a drifting stop on the tides..empty, it seemed for long moments..crewless, until one by one, shadows emerged from the nooks and crannies on deck. The boarding was swift, the ensuing battle with soldiers vomited from below deck, ruthless. But the outcome was inevitable. The treasury vessel was taken. The cries of victory echoed across the waters to where the Carrion battled.
Eliah couldn't have been bothered with the honors of a captain to captain battle, at least not until he found his position on the main deck solidified if only by the dead bodies of those he'd fallen upon. His group was called The Gathering, and he was called the Carrion Crow, but none could mistake him for anything less than a wolf at this point. His blade is tainted with crimson and another man's cry comes as he sends a sailor overboard with a gust of wind from the aid of his rapier. The blade is brandished upon the sight of his true oppostition, Captain Walker. The forsaken high-born rushes forwards, using the slickness of the ship's deck to slide towards the captain, his rapier making to parry and then with a skill not seen in his state of bloodlust, stab the blade towards the officer's decorated chest.
Hanan: Walker was a man of many things, but action was not one of them. He was and had always been a terrible fencer. He'd known how this would likely end. The pirates were swarming the ship, which was sinking; there was no way for life boats to make it out, and he doubted mercy would be shown the captain; his men, perhaps, but never he. It was far, far more Impressive to die at the end of a worthy opponent's sword than a common sailor's boarding axe. Which is not to say that he didn't try. Walker's cutlass flashed in the sunlight, clashing with the other's rapier until--until he was too slow. He almost didn't feel the rapier pierce him, it was fast enough; there was enough adrenaline in his system for him to launch one last wild blow. He never knew if it connected, for his lunging foot had taken purchase not on dry deck but on blood; he slipped and fell onto his side. Funny, he thought at the end. He'd always kept the decks so nicely swabbed...
Eliah felt the sting of the cutlass as it slashed a line over his chest, hissing before he turns back to the fallen captain and with a victorious howl offers a glance towards the faithful second mate. " Have them stand down! all of you will be spared and given passage safely home! refuse and all of you will die here." There is no doubt, Enchantress and his crew having found their way to him now.
Hanan ::Was Eliah kidding? With the damn ship sinking, the captain dead... of course they surrendered! To his credit, Charles the first mate was most hesitant. He waited a moment before taking his hand off the cutlass that had found a way (somehow) into the chest of one of the boarders. By his heroic and forthright incompetance, Walker had saved his crew. Impressive.