BountyOfTheSeas/Session O06

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<STonine> On the very outskirts of the former Red Marauder territory, the old pirate group's defenses have fallen to the horde of hungry ghosts, and now the tortured spirits strike out against them, raiding one of their few remaining storehouses - not for food, treasure or salt - but for human life.
<STonine> The weary enchantments on the first-age warehouse's rooftops was more than enough to halt lightning strikes, storms, winds and mortal skullduggery, but the magics shattered under the furious power of the Elder Dragon Sarakhan's raging spirit.
<STonine> Once inside, the army of ghosts no runs rampant through the Red Marauder lines, slaying and tearing at the men of what was once the most powerful entrepeneurial pirate groups in the North-West threshold.
<STonine> Like packs of hungry animals the ghosts descend, leaping over stacks of sugarsacks, barrels of wine, boxes of firedust and sacks of precious salt.
<STonine> Now with their former leader one with the ghosts, the pirates fall like wheat before a scythe... at first...
* Zeleny raises his golden slashfists and shouts a challenge. His skin glowed bronze and gold, casting uneven shadows that dip and weave and seem to fight even as he does. He casts an glare at Sarakhan's uncaged lower soul, but does not confront them immediately. Instead, he arranges the warehouse into a ship in his mind, and the disorganized knots of resistance.
* Sarasvati glares. Stupid damn mortals leaving messy extra souls behind.
<STonine> The disorganized soldiers of the Red Marauders are falling back. One archer on the balconies above spears a ghost on the main level through the empty eye-socket, only to have a more enterprising ghost climb up and thrust its claws through the weak wood below the archer's feet.
* Zeleny sees it from halfway across the warehouse. He kicks aside a multi-limbed, snarling ghost, and leaps onto a large hook that dangled from the ceiling, his momentum carrying smoothly across the fray. The ghost attacking the archer doesn't even have a chance. It hears a �whirring� sound of the pulley moving, and twists its head around 180 degrees, a puzzled "Hss?" escaping its lips before Zeleny slams feet-first into it,
<Zeleny> sending it soaring into a blazing torch. It screams like a dying animal.
<Zeleny> "Dammit, keep together!" he shouts at the archer. "Fat one! Man with halbred! Stand in front, and keep them back. Archer, provide cover."
<Zeleny> He moves from group to group, methodically bringing the scattered pirates into a semblence of unity. "Firm up starboard! Use the boxes as cover, drag the wounded behind!" And where his golden shadow falls, fears fall away.
<STonine> Gradually, man by man the crew begins to pull together and fight like an organized team. There are casualties yes, but it is no longer the savage bloodbath that the ghosts so vehemently hungered for.
<STonine> One man with a saber and some semblence of authority organizes a group of fast moving archers, drilling them to fire in unison into the swarms of savage spirits.
* Sarasvati works on the fringes of the melee, artfully skewering ghosts like so many pieces of meat at a barbeque.
<Zeleny> Good tactics spread like wildfire across the line. They kick over boxes to create makeshift barricades, and wave torches under ghostly noses. Zeleny is drenched in sweat from flames and exertion, and hungry ghosts have opened a dozen little wounds across his torso. The Solars and the Fair Folk are on the other side of the barricade, and the ghosts swarm them.
<Verdant> The swarm is abruptly met with another swarm...a swarm of obsidian butterflies, shredding many of the ghosts to tatters, their bodies turning to dust on the wind. The survivors charge forward, unmoved as only the mindless dead can be, but their numbers are thinned.
* Zeleny uses their numbers against them, dipping under them and catching them as they passed over and slamming them into one another, eviscerating them with Inspiration of Men.They smash and splash and explode into drips of foul-smellling ectoplasm that lingers only moments before fading from the living world, but it never seems enough.
<Zeleny> "Sarakhan!" he calls from under a knot of hungry snarling ghosts with the wedged heads of dogs. "We need to get the big one!"
<STonine> The men cheer with every victory, given hope by the newfound confidence that the Solars and their fae companion inspire.
<STonine> Still picking up and shearing the life from the few Red Marauder stragglers is their one-time leader, Sarakhan. Forever twisted by death, his body is elongated and broken between shards of ethereal red armour.
<STonine> Parts of his anatomy are missing, and in there place is pale ghostly red fire.
<STonine> Lifting a pair of men in the air, he tosses them down to the swarms of ghosts that writhe and cavort at the base of a large stack of crates.
<STonine> Blood and limbs are thrown up in the air between ghostly grey shapes as the ghosts tear the bodies apart. While they feed the ghost of Sarakhan emits a piercing evil scream.
* Zeleny snarls. He reaches out, grabs each side of the squat toad-like creature in his way, and �rips�.
<Zeleny> The ghost's tattered corpus rips to shreds and gobbets of slime under his hand. He kicks another aside, and leaps over the fray. Ghosts howl and curse in high wavering voices as he flies from their grasp, staring up with flickering yellow eyes.
<STonine> Sarakhan crouches low on the boxes like a wild beast and snarls at you, his jaw disdending to emit the unholy noise.
* Zeleny lands neatly in crouched front of the ghost, fierce and sad. "Time to rest, Sarakhan."
<Verdant> A lesser ghost attempts to attack Zeleny's unprotected back. It is met with a column of gold, and is abruptly nothing but dust on the wind. Verdant steps forward, twirling Glory's Halo and glaring a Sarakhan's ghost.
* Sarasvati runs and lightly jumps onto a nearby pile of crates, using it as a springboard to hurl herself at the ghost, spear extended, piercing through. She then twists it and pulls it out, causing more damage.
* Verdant charges forward, holding Glory's Halo in both hands, the forward end tilted downward. As he approaches Sarakhan, he jams the forward end into the floor, jumping to turn his momentum from running into leaping up the orihalcum staff. Reaching the apex of his vault Verdant lifts the glittering weapon and, with a flip, brings it down on the ghost's head.
<STonine> The blow is weak, though still connects, ripping away some of the flames that hold the ghost together. He turns quickly to Zeleny, his jaw distending and a silent scream emits waves and waves of dizzying, searing heat over the solar.
* Zeleny jumps up he sees the air ripple with heat, grabbing onto the iron chain dangling from the ceiling. His skin nearly catches fire nevertheless, as he carries himself over the worst of it, and he bites his lip at the sudden agony. The iron in his hands begins to heat up, sizzling against his hands, and with a desperate, uneven jump, he kicks off against a post and lands crouched on Sarakhan's other side.
* Zeleny darts in low and fast as Sarakhan's back is turned. With a sound like distant thunder, Thundering Liberation breaks like a tide against Sarakhan's sides, neatly scissoring him. A wave of force hits the red-and-flame armor, and cracks radiate in the glass where Zeleny had struck. There's a terrible ringing note, as if he'd struck a sour bell. Ghosts shriek and cower, covering their ears.
* Sarasvati spins like a dervish, hoping to confuse what mind Sarakhan still possesses. Her spear lances out - HERE, a flaw in the armor, and HERE, a vital spot.
<STonine> The claws lash out and grip the haft of the spear and toss it aside, then grip it a second time. The ghost smiles a smile of pointed evil teeth and glowing eyes.
<STonine> Flames beggining at his hands race up the spear, roaring into full life as if the shaft and coral head were made of a material laced with fire-dust.
<STonine> Within a second the weapon is ablaze in Sarasvati's hands.
<Verdant> Landing from his previous aerial assault, Verdant wastes no time in whirling about, his sandals kicking up dust and ash from the floor below. Holding one end of Glory's Halo, he swings at Sarakhan, catching him in the stomach.
* Zeleny watches as the assaults of his companions catch Sarakhan off-guard, waiting for his moment. As the flaming ghost-demon totters from Verdant's savage blow, he steps up, smiles, and drives his golden khatars straight up under Sarakhan's chin.
<STonine> The ghost remains speared on the khatar blades as Zeleny lifts the Dragonblood's base spirit up in the air. A long tongue snakes out from between the blades and licks at Zeleny's cheek, leaving behind terrible, terrible heat.
* Zeleny jerks his head back, grimacing.
<STonine> Flames ignite in the air, then gutter away.
* Verdant leaps on an overturned box, from there swinging at the raised Sarakhan.
<STonine> The flames surrounding Sarakhan seem to dim with each strike.
* Sarasvati pays little heed to the fact that her weapon is aflame, instead taking advantage of it; she quickly traces an pattern in the air, fires trailing, and plunges the spear through its heart.
* Zeleny shakes Sarakhan like a man might shake a dog as the Fair Folk impales him. The blades slide back and forth, working their way deeper into his chin, and little droplets of heated blood splash on Zeleny's forearms. He flinches, and pulls a blade out with a sickening crunching noise, burying it in the monster's throat and ripping downwards. Methodical butchery.
<Zeleny> A splash of gold essence ripples its way from his castemark down his forearms, growing bright and dazzling as it reaches his gauntlets, until it almost seems to explode as it touches Sarakhan. Zeleny is rocked back on his heels. Filmy bits of ghost-corpses puff into the air, floating down like burning feathers.
<Zeleny> Half the ghost's chest cavity is missing.
<STonine> The limbs and head fade and blow away like dust on the air, fading into nothingness... Sarakhan is dead - at least untill the next sunset. <STonine> The men cheer as the shadow of their former leader is destroyed, their morale growing many organize small charges into the broken ghost lines, slaying the specters with the same lack of remorse that the spirits showed their comrades. <STonine> Within a few short minutes, the final ghost that comprised the raid is gone, just dust and echoes.
* Zeleny lets out a breath, and lowers his golden khatars slowly. He hangs his head for a moment, exaustion etched into every aching method.
<Zeleny> *aching msucle
<STonine> Disbelieving the Red Marauders begin to climb over the barricades and look about in shock.
<STonine> "We... We won!" One of the lieutenants with a saber shouts.
* Zeleny wipes away the tiredness with an easy practiced deception. He lifts his head, and smiles down at the mass of shouting, leaping men. Golden light radiates from him in waves, like it does from the man standing next to him.
<STonine> The Marauders begin to congratulate eachother and celebrate their victory. One by one, men begin to gather around the stack of crates upon which the two solars and raksha ally stands, raising their swords in a disorganized salute.
<STonine> Men young and old look up in confident awe at the men that brought them to victory. Some show fear and unease at first, but one by one they turn their faces to the golden light of the Solar Exalted rather than away.
<Zeleny> "VICTORY!" Zeleny shouts, and raises his blade in a return salute. The Marauders break into roars and exultant cheers again. He lowers Inspiration slowly, and the noise dies away again at the gesture, straining to hear what he says. "You fought like lions today. This is your victory." He says it simply, with no vainglory. Just as a statement of fact. He leaps down from the makeshift pedestal, and lands among them.
<Zeleny> "But there are more monsters waiting in the dark," he says, meeting their eyes one by one. "And we'll need to work together to defeat them. Come the morrow, this is what needs to happen...."
<STonine> And with eager eyes, the survivors of the Red Marauders listen as the Solar Exalted plans the liberation of Black Flag...
<Zeleny> And in a few words, he outlines the plan. Teams of arsonists to burn the bodies strewn about the streets. Deliveries of salt to the holdouts scattered about Black Flag, to the Dynast and her crew. Envoys to rival gangs.
<Zeleny> He smiles almost awkwardly.
<Zeleny> "And I need two barrels of salt...."
<STonine> One of the ranking Marauders nods, and four of the men race to the stores and heft out two barrels of quality salt.
<STonine> A few of the ranking Marauders start issuing the commands and commense organizing the once-tattered remnants of a pirate band into and effective band, salt is prepared, fuel and equipment is collected from their nearby warehouses, and by dawn, everything is prepared to retake the streets of Black Flag.