BountyOfTheSeas/Session16

BEGIN CHAPTER 16
The "Screaming Gull," a venerable merchant-ship, has made hundreds of journeys through the Seaspray Region. Owned by the Guild, and operated by Captain Renoi, it was custom-made as a slave-hauler, and has carried literally thousands of men, women, and children to and from slave-markets througout the West. Today, though, the good ship's long years of service come to an end. Shouts ring out through the clear sea air.
Zeleny leads the attack. He runs down the length of the Brilliance's bowsprit, and lands in a roll on the Gull's deck. The orders of the enemy captain ends in a strangled scream, as Inspiration of Men's golden blades rip his throat open. Zeleny grins at the enemy sailors, and charges forward again across the enemy deck, shattering their formations as the crew of the Brilliance begin to board the vessel.
Like a wolf lunging at its prey, the Emancipation closes in from the other side.
Pyhrra tightens Ceaseless Journey against her left arm, and taps her bootheels with Memoir, to secure them maybe ensuring that they dont slip, but more likely a symbolism for her brother. She stares at the Gull as the Brilliance's men pour onto the deck, a determined look etched on her brow. Her heart however is far from determined.
Verdant stands at the bow of the Emancipation, shining in his Solar glory as he sends a wave of obsidian death streaking across the battlefield...and through the defenders of the Gull who either flee from Zeleny, or try to stand back and attack with bows.
The Emancipation comes up alongside the Gull, and Pyhrra leaps across the distance between the ships, not waiting for the ropes or boarding planks. Landing on the deck with a heavy thud, cracking some of the boards slightly she is up on her feet, yanking an enemy sailor past her then backhanding him heavily with Ceaseless Journing, throwing the flailing man overboard between the two ships.
The Screaming Gull's crew is composed of weathered, hard-bitten sailors. The second-in-command immediately took charge as soon as the captain was felled, but as the Death of Obsidian Butterflies ripped through their numbers, their courage melted.
Pyhrra siezes another armed sailor by the hand and cuff, lifting him off the ground with her enourmous strength, spinning herself and the grappled man around twice, building up momentum before hurling him into the air over his comrades and into the mast with a tremendous crack of bone and wood.
Sailors cringe away from the falling mass of the ruined man.
Without missing a beat Pyhrra launces herself against two other sailors, throwing her entire body into them, knocking the helpless men into the deck. She is up almost isntantly stepping up on a barrel and dropping her body once more on the two sailors from height, one knee smashing onto one soldier's neck, and the weight of Ceasless Journey into the other man's chest.
Zeleny smiles fiercely at Pyhrra across the deck as sailors flinch away. He roars over the din of battle, "SURRENDER! Surrender, throw down your weapons and you may have your lives."
The clatter of steel hitting wood is momentarily deafening. Then there is silence, with only the wind to fill it.
Pyhrra stands slowly over the downed men, the castemark of the dawn only the slightest light on her forhead. Mortal men were barely worth magic.
Zeleny nods to Salas and Niehan, and the stride forward to supervise the imprisonment of the crew, kicking away their weapons and binding their hands fast behind their backs.
Pyhrra says, "That was fast." Indeed it was, scarcely a minute from footfall to surrender. Pyhrra twirls Memoir effortlessly around in her hand with a swish of steel cutting air before sliding it neatly into the worn scabbard.
Zeleny says, "No one loves death." Zeleny seems to be searching for something on the deck, and at last his eyes fall to dark hole that leads to the hold. He tears the grate away with an impatient jerk of his hands, and leaps into the gloom of the ship's hold.
Pyhrra crouches over the darkened entrance to the hold. "Don't scare them now..." she murmers almost to herself, climbing down behind Zeleny with more care and restraint.
Zeleny can't see down here. His eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness. But he can hear the rustle of their chains.
Pyhrra says, "Hold on captain... I'll get some light."
Pyhrra hefts her shield in front of her and concentrates for a moment. Ceaseless Journey makes a pleasant melodious ringing noise, then flashes brightly before fading into a comfortable golden light that illuminates the hold.
The noise fades with the light, the details of the shield not drowned out by the illumination. Zeleny's shadow is cast dark and long against the Gull's hold by the light.
The eyes of the slaves shine back at the two Solars. The fear is plain on their faces, but also - in some - there is hope.
Zeleny says, "I am Zeleny." He introduces himself simply. "She is Pyhrra. The Brilliance and the Emancipation have come to free you, and carry you home, because it is not right for men to be chained in darkness."
And with that, he begins to strike off the heavy coils of metal that bind them.
Pyhrra wonders if he's rehearsed this.
The nearest slaves seem not dare to hope that they are actually free. They stare in wonder at their liberated hands. Slowly, wonder still shining on their faces, they stumble up the stairs and into the bright midday sun.
Pyhrra says, "You're free men now!" Pyhrra stares incredulously at them. "Go onto the deck, feel the warmth of the sun on your face once more! Breathe free air!"
Pyhrra stands aside, gesturing them out as they pass and file up towards the ladder.
Zeleny continues down the line, pulling the metal aside with angry yanks, slicing chains with his slashfist, until the last is unbound.
Irisa waits at the top of the stairs, extending a friendly hand and warm greetings to the liberated people. Sailors from the Brilliance and Emancipation are ready with food and water.
Zeleny smiles, as he sees their joy, and their climb into sunlight. "This was well done," he comments to Pyhrra as he emerges beside her.
Callidora is climbing in the rigging, beaming down at the people pouring out onto the quickly-crowded deck.
Pyhrra beams at Zeleny. "I feel... good."
Zeleny grins back at her. He hadn't been in such charity with her for a long time.
The second-in-command of the Screaming Gull lunges against his bindings. He sticks his face directly in Zeleny's. "You pirate scum. You're as good as dead. I don't care how many demons you may have fucked, the Guild doesn't take shit like this lying down."
Irisa calmly trips the man with an elegant sweep of her foot. His chin hits the deck hard.
Irisa smiles politely at the Captain, then turns to the fallen Guild-man. "Your Guild is not as invincible as you think, you horrid man."
Zeleny says, "Their strength lies in others' fear of them," Zeleny agrees, looking down on him. "And we do not fear them."
Verdant walks over to the now prone Guild-man, "I find it amusing that he thinks we haven't thought of how the Guild will respond. And him calling us demon whores is rather like the pot calling the kettle black, even if it were true."
A shout reaches the Screaming Gull from the lookout of the Brilliance. "Patrol-ship! Guild ship coming our way!"
Verdant says, "Impressive response time."
The second, lying face down on the deck's planks, gives a bitter laugh. "You see? These waters are lousy with patrols. You'll never get away - your bodies will feed crabs tonight, bastards!"
Zeleny nods, eyes cold. "Just luck." He pays no attention to the man at his feet, focusing on Verdant. "Butterflies at their deck and sail. Slow them down."
Salas squints in the direction of the approaching boat. "They're a ways away, sir, but we can't be gettin' the Gull up and runnin' in time to be gone a-fore they get here."
Pyhrra says, "We'll have to destroy them or surrender the Gull."
Verdant nods gravely at the captain, then kicks the fallen Guild-man. "Perhaps, but if so, you'll be their appetizer."
Zeleny says, "Then we will take the patrol ship too." He shrugs. "It will make a good pirate." He shouts orders, and orders the men of the Brilliance back to their ship.
To Salas, he says, "The Brilliance will intercept. Keep the sailors under guard, and begin preparations for the Gull to sail."
Salas says, "Aye aye, sir. Give 'em hell, sir."
Zeleny smiles. "Verdant, Pyhrra, Callidora- care to accompany me?"
Verdant says, "Gladly."
In answer, Callidora swings from the Gull's mast to a 10-point landing on the Brilliance's deck.
Irisa grabs Zeleny's shoulder.
Zeleny says, "Yes?"
Irisa looks the Captain squarely in the eyes. "Am I to remain here?"
Zeleny says, "Yes. There could be another patrol. Take care of the people here."
She looks at him with a wry smile. Then she nods, and with an "Aye aye, Captain," she turns to assist the crew.
Pyhrra jumps over to the Brilliance, somewhat less gracefully than Callidora, but functionally at least.
Verdant declines to jump, but hurries up the gangplank that the Brilliance's boarding parties used not long before.
On the deck of the Brilliance, the combat-capable crewmen heft their weapons. Wicked Mieklan leans casually against the mast, picking at his nails with a massive, serrated knife.
Pyhrra wrinkles her nose as she walks past. Loathesome man, but the only one other than the Captain she would be cautious of in battle.
Wicked winks at Pyhrra with a snaggle-toothed grin.
Pyhrra returns the smile with less enthusiasm.
With a few terse orders, Niehan has the Brilliance break away from the low-slung merchant ship, gracefully wheeling around to face the approaching patrol head-on.
The Solars and mortal crew face the awkward passage of time that only comes from anticipation of a battle. Men stamp their feet, repeatedly check their weapons, and generally fail to look as confident as they'd like. Only a few of the most rugged ex-pirates appear unconcerned about the coming bloodshed.
<Pyhrra> Observing the crew as she passes, Pyhrra too feels their nervousness. Even heroes are human she supposes, giving some excuse to her hidden unease. She walks quietly over to Verdant. "So much for poorly patroled waters..."
Verdant appears calm, at least outwardly. Or perhaps it is because he was keeping himself busy in thought to avoid thinking about unpleasantries. "Perhaps it's simply bad luck, perhaps there are more patrols than we thought. There is unfortunately no getting out of this fight. The only way to avoid it is to hand those newly freed slaves back to the bastards who threw them in chains."
By the mast, Callidora deftly swipes Mieklan's wicked-looking knife. She teases the scowling pirate for a few moments before casually tossing it back to him.
As the Guild trireme slices through the water, the crew of the Brilliance can begin to make out the solid opposition that awaits them.
Zeleny stands at the rail, resting his arms against it. He fingers the bloody ribbon tied to his wrist. He watches the enemy, hawk-eyed. "Verdant. The Butterflies!" They were in range to give the mercenaries a good spraying.
Verdant nods, and moments later, silent black messengers of death streak towards the Guild patrol.
Far from the best of the mercenary world, these troops are nonetheless an imposing sight to the poorly-traveled Seaspray sailors. Their breastplates and chopping swords reflect the sunlight with a painful glare. The trireme makes to bypass the Brilliance entirely, but obsidian butterflies tear their sails to shreds. The trireme rapidly slows, and the Brilliance swings around to pull alongside.
Zeleny glances back. Niehan had the ship well in hand.
Most of the mercenaries were spared the brunt of the sorcerous assault, but the ship itself is hamstrung. Wicked Mieklan twirls his twin cutlasses in anticipation.
Zeleny dives towards the lower deck of the trireme. Essence curls and shrieks into a golden ball around his fist, and he lunges forward, over a trail of golden essence.
He runs with casual ease over the heads of soldiers, to shatter his true target- the mast of the smaller ship.
Inspiration of Men hums, as the sun-colored gauntlet strikes the heavy oak. With an explosion of gigantic splinters, fully half the diameter of the mast is scattered to the wind, as a tree devastated by the woodsman's axe. The mast slowly begins to topple backwards... With a scream of timber, and several screams of men, the tattered sail and frayed rigging collapses - half into the sea, and half pinning unfortunate soldiers to the deck.
Pyhrra puts a leg up on the rail and pauses, turning to Verdant and holding out a hand to him. "Coming with?"
Momentarily stunned by this display of superhuman strength, steel-clad mercenaries converge on the Captain, even as others brace themselves for the full boarding party.
Verdant makes a brief show of a semi-elegant bow, saying, "Of course." Taking Pyhrra's hand, he follows her into the fray.
Pyhrra pushes off, taking Verdant somewhat roughly with her on the leap to the patrol ship below...and into the waiting embrace of the mercenaries' blades. Rough-faced men close around the two Solars.
Zeleny snarls at the converging mercenaries. He buries one slashfist in a man's stomach, and tears out the guts in a splatter of blood and meat . He kicks the gory ruins of the man into a charging barbarian, and whirls as his fellow attacks from the back.. Zeleny spins to kick the man in the chin, driving the man's jaw up into his skull..
"I apologise." Pyhrra says to Verdant as she steps in between Verdant and the mercenaries.
"For what?" Verdant replies as he readies his staff.
Pyhrra says, "This will bleach your clothes more effectively than any Sea-lamb venom solution ever will..."
Verdant chuckles.
The Brilliant's crew storms over the side of their proud vessel, dropping down on their demoralized enemy like a torrential rain.
Pyhrra lowers her stance, pressing her feet firmly against the deck, gaining immovable balance. Stray splinters bounce across the deck as the rumble starts to reverberate through the planking.
The sound of steel-on-steel quickly crescendos as the warriors clash, and battle is joined all around the Solars.
Zeleny is a tiger among his foes, ripping and clawing, tearing and biting. He spits out half an ear. Zeleny collects a nasty swipe across the back, but doesn't seem to notice it. A screaming merc charges through the space Zeleny had so recently cleared of foes, and he dodges neatly to the side, and a man trips and falls over the rail where Zeleny had been, splashing into the water.
Two mercenaries, in desperation, grab the raging tornado of carnage that is the Captain - one to each arm, they clutch him as if their very lives depended on it.
It is a mistake. Zeleny spins in circle, faster and faster, and the two mercenaries, still attached , are lifted from their feet as if by a whirlwind. It is not their grip that holds them fast to Zeleny now. At last, they are released, and they fly a dozen yards, one landing in the water and the other in a limp heap by the shattered mast.
Soon items seem to rise up off the ground as Pyhrra clenches her fists into iron balls, golden smoke trailing off her shoulders. Her voice growls which soon turns into a deafening roar, drowning out the sound of steel against steel as the Dawn focuses her pure warrior might. Her snarl reaches its height as her anima explodes, her eyes opening, filled with a blinding white light, her sword gleams viciously in the pale golden-white light of the sunrise. Blazing tongues of her anima lash out, whipping up clothing and throwing around light items on the deck.
Mercenaries, their faces frozen in paroxysms of fear, fall to their knees before the Dawn Caste. Weapons hang limply in their hands. Two men turn and flee from Pyhrra's raging anima - directly into the waiting arms of the cold depths of the sea.
In the chaos on the deck, Verdant and Pyhrra stand alone in a slowly-widening circle of fearful calm.
Verdant gives a nod of appreciation to Pyhrra's display, before blurring out of the way of a sword held by a soldier either too brave, too foolish, or too fixated on Verdant to be affected by Pyhrra's power. A swift swing of Verdant's staff and the man is unconscious.
Zeleny takes a moment to survey the battle. Pyhrra, merely by her presence, seemed to have demoralized the enemy. Verdant slew enemies, and none could touch him. And the crew of the Brilliance fought with the courage of lions against their more experienced foe.
Callidora stands next to Pyhrra, grinning like a maniac. She leans on Pyhrra's shoulder and laughs at the terror that spreads before them.
Pyhrra shrugs the Night off and charges forward, deflecting a swipe from a mercenary's cutlas and grabbing him by the shoulder, ramming her knee like a battering ram into his gut. The man gags, a trickle of vomit and blood trailing down the corner of his mouth. She pushes him back and coils one leg up, charging her leg for a powerful kick. Things seem to slow around for a moment as the essence pools into her thigh before she kicks him with the force of a bull-charge, sending the man sailing into a group of mercs' advancing on Zeleny.
As the Dawn's anima moves with her, more men target Verdant. One spins, his sword outstretched to catch the sorcerer in the throat.
At first glance, the blade passes right through Verdant's exposed neck. But as the deadly swing continues, Verdant's form seems to blur and distort, to fade away like a shadow before the sun. It is then that the soldier sees the shadows on the deck...and realizes to his horror that Verdant is not where the soldier thought he would be, but is instead to the soldier's side, staff at the ready.
One man, eyes closed against the vision of righteous anger, takes a running start and leaps to tackle Pyhrra.
The charging man slams into Pyhrra, pushing her back unbalanced a few steps before she falls, rolling onto her back with the momentum of the charge. She pulls her legs up, pressing both booted feet against the mercenary's chest. At the apex of the backward roll and with a fierce grunt of effort Pyhrra extends her legs, sending the sprawling man over her and the railing to splash into the sea.
"Not yet ready to give up, it seems." Zeleny leaps to stand on the splintered stump of the mast, and looks. Idly, he kicks a man aside who sought to dislodge him from his perch. There. A man in good armor, a bright sword. Their leader, no doubt. Mieklan had slain his guard, but was now caught in a duel with some subordinate. Zeleny vaults over subordinate and Mieklan both, landing gracefully behind the man shouting orders.
The mercenary leader has a brief second to look over his shoulder at Zeleny, and whisper half an expletive under his breath...
Zeleny siezes him from behind, rests the golden blades against his throat. "Tell them to surrender," the Solar whispers to the man, his voice hoarse from shouting and vicious as a serpent. "Tell them to surrender, or I will cut you open."
<Pyhrra> Meanwhile, Pyhrra sweeps a merc's feet out from underneath him, dropping the soldier on his back. As soon as he hits he tries to roll to his feet but is stopped by a foot rammed onto his neck. With lightning speed Pyhrra rams Memoir's point through his breastplate, through his chest, the back of the armour and through a few inches of deck as well, thrusting the old sword up to it's hilt in the man's chest. The mercenary's mouth gapes open in a soundless scream as he dies.
Leader says, "S- stop! Men, HALT!" The leader's shouts are echoed down the mercenary lines.
Zeleny says, "Good man," Zeleny whispers, still holding him.
The fighting gradually subsides. Only Wicked Mieklan's opponent dies in the process of attempting to surrender. Mieklan grins ferally.
Zeleny frowns slightly at him, but directs his attention to more important matters. "Drop your weapons and your gear in a pile, there," he directs the surrendered-mercs in a tone which admits no disobedience.
Slowly, grudgingly, the mercenaries do as ordered. Clearly, they anticipate little mercy from their demon-foes, but mostly they seem to resent the leader - still held captive by Zeleny - that betrayed them to such an enemy.
Zeleny glances over his men, checking for any missing.
To Niehan, who had what would no doubt be a new scar across his cheek, he orders, "Have the men collect the weapons and gear and put it aboard the Brilliance."
Pyhrra wrenches the sword out in a spray of blood and gore, standing like a demon amongst the dead and broken, her eyes still glowing menacingly.
Niehan salutes, and wipes futilely at the blood flowing freely down his cheek. He dispatches men to begin carrying the loot.
Nearly a dozen of the Brilliance's men are wounded, but only one is already dead - Couro, an ex-Burning Rain pirate.
Zeleny releases the mercenary captain with a contemptuous push. His eyes follow his man's corpse carried aboard the Brilliance, and there seems a heaviness about him in that moment. As the last of the loot is gathered into the Brilliance, he addresses the mercenaries. "I will leave you here, with your lives and your ship. No doubt you can row to shore." He pauses a moment, and his eyes seem to ignite with gold fire. But he only says, "Reconsider well before you go again to the aid of a ship which mistakes men for cattle." And then he joins his men aboard his ship.
The wounded men limp to take seats and be tended by the ship's rudimentary medical staff.
Pyhrra waits till last, watching the patrol ship's men with cautios blazing eyes, DARING any to come closer.
Callidora says, "All aboard who's coming aboard, cutie!" She winks at Pyhrra from above the Brilliance's railing.
Pyhrra glares at her as the anima begins to fade as her will for bloodshed follows it.
Zeleny frowns slightly at the sight of the wounded, at the numerous cuts and scrapes more lucky men had. "We'll get Falling Leaf from the Emancipation here," he promises them. It was all he could do.
The Brilliance shoves off from the ruins of the trireme. As the Guild ship shrinks into the distance, the tiny figures of the mercenaries tending to their fallen disappear.
Kalto, the Brilliance's head 'doctor' sniffs at this statement. Falling Leaf had been teaching him a thing or two since joining Zeleny's fleet, but her manner was generally ill-suited to instruction.
Zeleny shrugs apologetically at him, but doesn't take back the words.
"..." Pyhrra watches the bloody aftermath with sad eyes. She clenches them shut, trying to shut the images out. She turns her attention to her gear, stripping off the bloodied buff jacket and running some water over Memoir's reddened steel before drinking some herself and pouring the rest over her face.
Mieklan says, "Ooo yeah." He watches appreciatively as Pyhrra shakes the water from her face and hair. The grimy pirate has made no effort to wash the blood from his hands and clothes - although his blades have been expertly cleaned and oiled.
Pyhrra says, "Dream on, because that's all you'll ever get Mieklan, unless you want to take our relationship up a notch by me punching you in the face?"
Mieklan licks his thick lips and gives a gravelly chuckle. "Ain't never seen a woman fight like that back there." He runs his hands through his stringy, tangled black hair.
Pyhrra puts her fists on her hips. "You learn something new everyday, Mieklan."
Mieklan says, "Heh... I'd like to learn a couple new things, missy, if you're teachin'."
Pyhrra thinks back to Zeleny's request for her to teach his crew to fight and HOPES that Mieklan is refering to combat. Hopes. "I'll consider it." She says, giving Mieklan a cautionary glare.
He flashes her a grin that could have earned him his sobriquet all by itself.
Back alongside the Screaming Gull, the crew of the Brilliance begin divvying up the loot from the Guild soldiers.
Falling Leaf and Kalto are jointly tending to the men. Pyhrra makes sure to take the best looking breastplate for herself... untill they reach port and she can spend all of that Jade that creepy Caress woman gave them.
Irisa seems relieved to see her fellow Solars back and unharmed. The necklace bequeathed to her by the Deathlord's emissary shines from around her neck.
Zeleny nods to her. He feels a trifle uneasy about the necklace, but...he glances down at the heavy gold slashfists that encases his hands and forearms.
Zeleny says, "Any trouble," he asks Salas.
Salas has the slaves reasonably well-organized, and appears jovial as he goes about his work.
Salas says, "Things're just about underway here, sir. They should be set."
Zeleny nods. "There was a trimere; there must be islands nearby. Are they on the charts?"
Salas says, "Aye, sir. They're not fit fer more than a waystation, though."
Zeleny says, "They can support life, yes? We promised the guildsmen no more than that. We will maroon them. There fellows will rescue them eventually." He shrugs.
Salas says, "Oh, aye. I wouldna worry about those snakes more than ye already have."
Irisa says, "Shall we see these good people on their way, then?" She gestures to include the ex-slaves, who are making ready to set sail.
Zeleny says, "Yes, we should wish them luck."
Several men grasp Salas' hands in hearty handshakes. Crying women clasp Irisa, profuse thanks tumbling from their lips.
The Captain himself is beseiged by a throng of thankful souls, each clamoring to touch him, to give him their thanks, to offer heartfelt words of appreciation.
Zeleny smiles at them all. He congratulates them on their survival, wishes them luck.
From the decks of the Brilliance and the Emancipation, the crews wave down at the newly-liberated.
He manages to get a few words edgewise, amongst the tumbled gratitude. And if ever these people thought slavery was neccessary, or inevitable, or justified, they do not leave Zeleny still thinking it.
Niehan clasps the Captain's hand as he and Irisa climb aboard the Brilliance. The pirate holds a kelp-based compress to his cheek with his other hand.
Zeleny frowns minutely. "Has Falling Leaf looked at that?"
Niehan hefts the compress. "'s where I got this, Cap'n."
Zeleny nods, a shadow of worry in his eyes. "Follow her instructions."
Niehan mutters under his breath. Something about the dubious benefit of pressing kelp to his wound. Obviously, Niehan was not raised in Seaspray: kelp heals all wounds, according to local folk-traditions.
Zeleny says, "She knows what works," Zeleny tells him firmly.
Niehan says, "I've had worse, believe me, sir. Speakin' of, your back..." He gestures to the gash across Zeleny's shoulderblades.
Zeleny says, "I'll get it seen to," Zeleny promises, more to set a good example than because he believes he needs it. But he does not go to Falling Leaf immediately. Instead, he finds Verdant.
Zeleny says, "How do you think the battle went?" He asks idly.
Verdant says, "The first, second, or both?"
Zeleny says, "Both."
Pyhrra idly listens in, being nearby.
Verdant says, "The patrol ship's appearance was a stroke of bad luck, and demonstrated my own foolishness. Overall, however, I think we did well, but I can't be certain that's only because we did not face any beings close to our caliber."
Zeleny says, "You're right." He leans against the rail. "Have you any tactical suggestions to make?"
Verdant says, "For starters, while keeping Ruler in reserve is a sound choice, we need to be more mindful of how much Essence we use--myself especially, my sorceries can rapidly drain my reserves."
With final goodbyes, the two ships of the 'fleet' take their leave of the Screaming Gull. The merchant-ship catches the wind in her sails, and begins a new career as a new kind of slave-hauler.
Irisa takes a seat on a barrel next to Pyhrra's own perch. She, too, seems interested in eavesdropping.
Zeleny says, "Hm. Yes. An effective Guild strategy they may one day stumble across would be to conceal an powerful warrior among the mass of lesser foes to strike when we were weak. But that also increases the risk to my own men..." His eyes narrow in calculation.
Verdant says, "Exactly. What if there had been dragon-blooded hidden on that patrol ship? I'm not saying we should hold everything back per se...it's just that we can't assume the target in front of us is the only threat we'll face before we have a chance to rest."
Zeleny says, "Perhaps...perhaps we might hold you or Pyhrra in reserve. By which I mean," he adds wrly, "slaying men with only your mortal skills. The intimidation factor of several Exalts is preserved...but we will not be totally drained if we must confront more serious opposition."
Verdant says, "That's a viable strategy captain...but by the same token, battlefield sorcery can take a devastating toll on enemy morale."
Zeleny says, "Hm. Yes." He scowls in thought. "Don't you have some strange magic? With which you detect, ah, essence and spirits and such? Could such means ferret out serious foes?"
Verdant says, "Yes. I can perceive the flows of essence...and I'm afraid it's not that simple."
Zeleny says, "Why not?"
Verdant says, "Only if they were actively using essence would they be apparent to my perceptions. If instead they bided their time... Still, that can be useful, as Callidora, for example, almost always has a Charm active. And an Exalt going into battle will more likely than not prepare long-term magics."
Zeleny says, "Can you detect-" he lifts his slashfists. "ah, artifacts?" His mind had at last come up with the word.
Verdant considers for a moment. "More than likely, but hardly guaranteed. They do manipulate essence, but if it is inactive it might not show up...and if it is designed for stealth, then most likely it will have measures to hide such signs."
Zeleny says, "Really. Can you detect these, or the Ruler?"
Verdant says, "Captain, if I need essence perception to realize that a 23 foot high suit of moonsilver armor is an artifact, there's something severely wrong with my eyesight. Virtually any artifact is going to have to incorporate one of the Five Magical Materials. Often that will be a bigger tip-off than essence perception."
<ST2> (Dissed!)
<Pyhrra> (haha)
Zeleny says, "In the water, I mean. Can you see where he swims around the ship? Could you see his essence if he were under the ship?"
Verdant says, "I can hardly see through walls, or the deck, captain."
Zeleny says, "Unfortunate."
Verdant says, "And the further answer is that it depends on too many factors to count, distance, local essence flows, the list goes on and on."
Zeleny says, "It will be some time, I estimate, before the Guild understands us well enough to set traps. We may not need to be overly concerned immediately."
Verdant says, "Meanwhile, if you consider a patrol ship expendable, there is a faster way to eliminate such a threat."
Zeleny says, "Oh?"
Verdant says, "Tear open the hull, from the underside."
Zeleny says, "Hm. Yes. And that minimizes the danger to my crew, as well."
Zeleny says, "What means would you suggest?"
Pyhrra says, "Giant silver fish suit..." Pyhrra says, deciding to enter the conversation.
Verdant says, "I think Ruler can do it, especially if it started deep underwater and slammed into the hull from below."
Callidora jumps in, too. "Slammed into it? Heck, Ruler could do it with his bare hands! Grraaarrr!"
Pyhrra says, "Verdant or Callidora could also swim underneath it and destroy it like that, perhaps cutting the rudder clean off, or damaging the keel, forcing it to capsise?"
Zeleny nods. "That will startle them...frighten them," he smiles. "But they will not know by what means it was does. Yes, we will do that."
Zeleny says, "Sabotage from below by our own small hands is possible- but we have learned, not without difficulty."
Callidora makes a 'wait a second' gesture. "I'm not trying to capsize any more boats from below. If Verdant wants to try, fine, but -count- -me- -out-."
Pyhrra says, "There is the added bonus of a destroyed rudder as you well know captain. With their ship helpless, you cant take her as a prize easier."
Zeleny says, "Not that it will matter, if all their patrols are damned short-range vessels." He sneers at the trimere in the distance.
Zeleny says, "The Ruler...he could attempt more subtle sabotage, could he not?"
Verdant says, "Possible. I'd have to ask. And as we've found out, a combat ship's hull is not easy for Callidora to sabotage, and I doubt I'd fare much better."
Callidora offers says, "Sure, Cap! Ruler can do whatever you want! Boom!" She pantomimes, surprisingly effectively, a 23-foot robot smashing a tiny ship out of the water.
Verdant says, "What sort of subtle sabotage did you have in mind?"
Zeleny says, "Pyhrra's suggestions were reasonable. Damage the rudder or the keel. Subtle in that it is less obvious than ripping it in half from below."
Callidora pantomimes another hapless ship being capsized, complete with sound effects.
Verdant says, "The advantage being...ah. It does not reveal Ruler to our foes..."
Zeleny nods. "Then let us give Ruler new orders..."
Verdant says, "Ruler cannot fight without one of us in him, captain."
Callidora had little part in today's battle. Slightly dubiously, he looks at her. "Would you like that role?"
Verdant and Pyhrra could not be spared from the battle aboard the decks.
The Night Caste claps her hands. "Yay!"
Zeleny nods gravely to her. "Remember. Subtlety."
She hangs her head. "Awww..."
Verdant winces slightly, but cannot argue with the underlying logic of the choice.
The Brilliance and the Emancipation make a beeline for the underwater hiding-place of the giant warstrider, there to come together again to plan their next attack.
Zeleny nods to them all, and is about to turn away, when he stops, hesitating. Briefly, he grips Pyhrra shoulder, looks steadily into her eyes. "You did a good job today. Thank you." And then he turns and leaves. Quickly.
Pyhrra scratches her head. "You're welcome?" She says to the air.
Verdant blinks at the captain's behavior, then chuckles.
Irisa delicately picks herself up and retires to her chambers.
Callidora goes to wait at the helm, eagerly pestering the helmsman to 'go faster!'
Pyhrra says, "What's so funny?" Pyhrra asks Verdant suspiciously.
Verdant says, "Well, either I'm right, in which case I can't tell you, or I'm wrong, in which case I shouldn't tell you because it would only make things worse." Verdant stands up and moves to speak with Irisa regarding the future purchase of various herbs.
Pyhrra just looks at Verdant strangely and walks away, towards the captain's modest quarters.
She takes a breath and knocks twice on the door.
Zeleny says, "Come in," he calls, assuming it's Niehan.
Pyhrra enters. Hate to disappoint. "Do you have a moment Captain?"
Zeleny looks somewhat startled to see her there. "Of course," he replies courteously. He gestures to a chair.
Pyhrra scratches her arm and remains standing, looking anywhere *but* Zeleny.
Pyhrra says, "Well, it's about today. I've fought all my life, for food, clothing, survival. For many things. It's been something of a choice that has been forced on me."
"So it is for many," he agrees. He watches her, his face shadowed by the poor light of the cabin.
Pyhrra says, "Well ah... this has really been the first battle that I've entered by choice. For someone else. And... it felt good. Not the pleasure of killing I mean, but the fulfilment of doing it for others. For those people in the hold."
"It is a good feeling," Zeleny agrees. "Will your fight more such battles?"
Pyhrra grows formal. "With your permission captain-" She bows suddenly. "I would like to stay aboard the Brilliance!"
Zeleny grins. It's like a sunrise, a sudden brightening across grim seas. He almost looks like a boy. Almost like his age. Then he replies, solemnly, but with a radient undercurrent, "Then welcome to crew, Lady Warrior." He clasps her hand in the customary gesture.
Pyhrra clasps his hands back. "Thank you, Captain Zeleny."
Zeleny bows slightly back to her, and then hesitates, the serious captain again. "If you catch scent of your brother again. And we have need of you, battles close ahead. What will you do?"
Pyhrra says, "I suppose... I'll have to make that choice when the time comes Captain. I honestly don't know. So many red herrings have shaken my faith."
Zeleny nods. "I hope when the time comes...you make the right choice. But nevertheless, welcome." More softly, "Welcome to the Sun's service."
She nods, reserved and steps out. "I wont take up more of your time captain."
He shrugs. "Of course," he returns to his shadowed cabin, leaving the door open to let in a band of sunlight.
Later in the day, Pyhrra finds herself stepping over the threshold to Zeleny's room once again - this time, as one of many. The mortals and Solars crowd in to plan their next attack. As they pour over charts and quietly discuss the day's events, each reflects in his or her own way about how refreshing it is to be in action once again after the long voyage.
For Verdant, it is refreshing to get out of his cabin more. He'd spent so much time meditating that more than one crewmember had checked just to see if he was still alive.
Callidora spent much of the time frollicking through undersea landscapes with her new, giant, metal friend. Towards the end of the journey, she was spending the better part of each day with Ruler of Cerulean Seas, even to the point of neglecting her friendship with Shore.
For Irisa, the meeting was a change only in that there were more people than usual - she, Zeleny, and occasionally one or two mortal assistants had spent a sizable portion of the trip plotting out grander schemes for the Guild, and its eventual supplanting.
Pyhrra in the meantime, between practicing new charms and styles, began her attempts to train five members of the Brilliance's crew, Mieklan included. Pyhrra reflects briefly on the difficulty she had in convincing Mieklan to accept tutelage. The others had been pliant enough, for pirates, but Mieklan... They never did find that tooth. He was difficult, but a difficult student was a 'demonstration volutneer'. Pyhrra smiles.
When not planning, or taking his shift as watchmen, Zeleny spent much of his time alone, thinking....no one knew what. Midway through their voyage a storm strikes. He emerges among heaving seas and high winds. The crew do their best, but the deck is slippery, and fear clutches at their hearts. Their hands and feet tremble. But when they see their captain below them, then beside them among the ropes, shouting orders...their hearts calm. Fear melts away from them like fogs, and they are heroes, steady as they work to save the ships from drowning. Even above the howling winds, the thunder of the rolling seas...they hear his voice in their hearts, like a golden fire. When the storm passes, his men look at him with new wonder, but no surprise. Except Monk, who stared at his captain with something in his eyes that might have been fear.
It took three days before the next merchant-vessel blundered into the Solars' trap. While the Emancipation and Ruler of Cerulean Seas kept up a careful watch for any ill-timed patrols, the Brilliance - with full complement of Solars - prepared to board. This ship, the Hearty Loaf, is comparable to the Screaming Gull, though a little larger, and less venerable. It also, from the looks of the angry men on deck, carries a small complement of armed and armored guards to supplement the slave-handlers and sailors.
Pyhrra stands ready, Ceaseless Journey secured on her left arm, and a new breastplate painstakingly shined gleaming in the sunlight.
Zeleny strikes as before- the bull that charges to scatter the wolves and shatter their unity. At his back, where they prepare to board behind Pyhrra, his men know no fear.
Verdant holds back this time. He stands on the deck of the Brilliance for a few moments after his fellows enter the fray. His eyes sweep the battlefield, as if looking for something.
To Verdant's eyes, the clashing lines of men are a riot of essence-flows - but nothing untoward catches his notice.
Zeleny kicks men aside, and throtles them, and slams them face-down against the deck with idle blows, as he wades his way to the armored guard.
Verdant nods, then joins in the battle, sending guards sprawling as he lays into them with his staff.
Pyhrra charges in behind Zeleny, immediately charging one of the heavier guards, her shield in front of her. She pushes him backward and rams him through the railing before taking a handfull of another solider's hair and smashing his face against Ceaseless Journey with a clang. Without missing a beat Memoir is drawn and slashed across the throat of another of the Guild's dogs.
Rushing into the wake of his disruption come Zeleny's men, shouting to raise the dead. They crash into the opposing sailors. The battle is joined, and as the battles before them, the Solars disable or kill enough to win almost entirely by themselves. But before Zeleny can call for the enemy to throw down their weapons, a complication strides onto deck and stretches langorously.
Zeleny tenses as this new complication announces trouble.
The figure is tall - easily six feet, and probably more. Dressed in rich, bright purples, with ornate gold trim, what catches the eye of all the Brilliance's crew are the gleaming arms and armor of the intruder. From its post at the far end of the deck, all that can be plainly made out through the chaos is a breastplate, shield, and long sword, all composed of something brightly shining like glass. And the figure's skin tone announces that it is most assuredly not human. Verdant in particular is confused by the stranger's presence - its essence-patterns appear more deliberate, more -meticulous- than anything he's ever observed before.
Pyhrra pulls Memoir out of another soldier and drops his limp body to the ground, staring perplexed at the new combatant. Who...?
Carefully, the figure picks its way through the combat that has grown to encompass the Loaf's entire top deck.
Zeleny twists to keep the figure always in view, as he tosses men aside and rips them asunder. Let the peacock come the him and his circle.
It disdains to even glance at the soldiers and sailors warring around it, instead inspecting with interest the tiny circles of carnage that each Solar creates around them.
Zeleny spinters a man's jaw with an elbow, and then, with a massive heave , sends the guardsmen hurtling in the peacock's direction.
Coming closest to Zeleny first, it stares with a fascinated expression at the dance of death-dealing. As the guard stumbles towards the figure, it sidesteps him so neatly and so quickly that it almost seemed not to have moved at all. Its expression remains fixed on Zeleny.
Zeleny stares at it through a haze of blood. He bares his teeth at it.
The face is a beautiful but androgynous assemblage of angular, well-defined features. It smiles politely back at the Captain's grimace. The figure's skin - only visible on its hands and his face - is the grey of clouds at sea an hour before a mighty storm. When it speaks, it speaks with a voice of bells. "You look to be a great deal of sport. I shall come back to you."
An armored man tackles Zeleny from behind, clinging to his waist with both arms.
Next, the purple-and-gold-clad... thing steps carefully between the struggling knots of men, to inspect Verdant's staff-work. It cocks its head to one side, then the other, frowning slightly as if making mental notes. The sword it holds is razor-sharp, thin like a rapier, and clear as glass. Long, slender grey fingers grasp it firmly. More peculiar are its breastplate and heraldic shield. The breastplate is a glass and crystal assemblage that resembles an armor comprised of gently-rolling waves, disappearing up over its shoulders and down its back.
Verdant scowls at the creature in the moments he can spare amongst the guards.
The shield is of a similar design and composition, as though the figure holds a slice of the sea itself.
Nodding thoughtfully to itself, the Fae - for, to Verdant's eyes, there is no mistaking the face of a creature that dreamed itself to be - wanders across the carnage-wracked deck. Almost faster than the eye could follow, it ducked as a hapless sailor sailed through the space previously occupied by its head. Smiling faintly, the Fae approaches the rapidly-dwindling clot of men tangling with Pyhrra. One man is grabbing her from behind, arm across her throat. She holds one by the shirt in her shield-hand, and Memoir is buried in a third. To this tableau, the Fae gaily approaches, leaning in close to examine Pyhrra's flushed face with apparent interest.
Pyhrra grits her teeth as she deflects another two blows aimed at her with Ceaseless Journey before backhanding the man with Memoir's hilt. She was trying to ignore the gorgeous creature walking her way, but she couldn't concentrate on them. Pyhrra takes an uneasy step back. The man holding her is strong, and the distraction is making her struggle to escape difficult. Very difficult.
With three lightning-fast motions, the men clinging to Pyhrra fall away, gurgling or otherwise spraying blood in an unhealthy fashion. The blood runs from the glass rapier, pooling on the deck and leaking between the cracks in the deck.
Pyhrra gasps, blinking madly as sprays of blood splatter a crimson hue on her face.
The Fae says, "Pyhrra. So good to see you. How have you been?"
Pyhrra says, "What?!" She brings the shield between her and the Fae defensively. "Who are you!?"
The fae's face is split by a wide smile. Perfect, square, faintly-vermillion teeth fill its mouth.
The Fae says, "Oh, come now! Is that any way to greet me?"
"Answer me!" Pyhrra screams.
The other soldiers fighting Pyhrra back away, eyeing the strange creature with familiar distrust.
The Fae says, "Why, it's Foame, dear girl! It's surely not been so long, has it?"
Pyhrra says, "Foame?" Pyhrra murmers quietly, then shouts. "Stay back, I dont know you!"
Foame gently circles around the anxious Solar, eyeing her intently. "Of course you do - you've always known me, for I have always known you, and how else should it be?"
Pyhrra keeps her stance low for better balance. "What are you talking about?"
Foame laughs lightly. "You are so beautiful! I had forgotten, being surrounded by ugliness for so long, what true beauty was. But these, these dogs..." He gestures to the fallen, bleeding soldiers. "...they are not worthy of your beauty. Come. We really must dance once more - I _yearn_ for it." The strange figure hefts his sword and bows low. The long purple cap it wears almost touches the blood-spattered ground.
Pyhrra says, "D-d-d-dance?!" Pyhrra stutters
From low to the ground, the Fae's head twists up to regard Pyhrra - an unnatural angle, and an unsettling one to observe. "I am quite certain you remember the dance. Yes - I can sense it in you. You know it better now than ever before." He stands erect. When he levels his transparent sword at Pyhrra's throat, his meaning becomes deathly clear.
Pyhrra bobs lightly on her feet, testing her balance and energy, stretching her arms out before landing neatly in a side-on classical sword+shield combat stance.
Foame's expression becomes one of breathless anticipation.
Behind Verdant, who is holding three guards at bay with his staff, Hidden Victory's voice asks says, "May I offer assistance, friend?"
With not one, but two unexpected complications to what should have been a routine mission of mercy, the Circle begins to learn that Creation is a harsh mistress indeed - even for her mightiest stewards. The early-morning sun watches, burning fiercely in the eastern skies, and dying the clouds the color of blood.
END CHAPTER 16