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[P] The Sheltered Life; Private; Outside a tavern on the docks
Topic Started: Tue Oct 25, 2011 4:23 pm (1,023 Views)
Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman's smile towards her questions of Elnora was an extremely short lived one as he saw the expected reaction. So his hunch as to what transpired at the tavern was correct, and it wasn't the forcefulness of the man but more what he did that sparked her beating him out of his sound mind. He was silently hoping that his walking too far didn't take him far enough to warrant that, or at least not until they were on the ship. He began to think he'd be willing to take the punch when they got out of here, but then again he wondered if he'd lose any teeth.
He was rather attached to his teeth, after all, figuratively and literally. They had served him well for some time.

He sighed, "Three of ye behind the lass, one bow to each side. Allen with me at the front. Anyone comes at us I'm gonna call for Elnora, no matter the numbers, and if she misses then we hope we run faster then the flames."
His face set into a very serious glare as he looked towards the woman one last time, pressing on between the buildings and into the alley. He felt so uncomfortable between the two, like quiet giants purposely aiding a rogue with it's shadow so he could take out a target. He smirked quietly to himself as he considered how they would feel on those very shadows would turn against them.

It didn't take long for the hair on the back of the Captain's neck to stand up, his hand instinctively going to his blade. He knew that the men that were following them on the road likely followed them into the alleyway, and he had a feeling that the traffic to the docks was a purposeful diversion, so they likely had an ambush in waiting here. He didn't give them time to spring it. A whistle cut through the air, the hound running in front of it's master on instinct and preparing for what the whistle warmed them of. A distant cawing of a bird was heard on the air, the sound of it belying the size and power of the bird itself.
The Captain's response when he saw the first man was barely discernible. He could feel the wolf idol's influence on him now, a snarl passing his lips that almost mirrored the one that his wolf did.

The first man showed his face, a look of surprise on it when he saw what Ahriman was doing. His eyes were closed, his fingers tracing runes in the air in front of him. He wasn't a good student of magic, not in the least, but the lad paid attention when it counted, and that was when he was taught that you did magic right, or it did you wrong. The incantation rolled off of his tongue, no hint of his accent in his tones as he went through the incantations. He couldn't even begin to imagine trying to put his people's old language into his accent, and so he didn't try.
As the final word passed his lips he turned his head, smiling lightly, "I'd close yer eyes, lass. This isn't gonna be pleasant."

The magic of the spell was released as a crossbow bolt slammed into his left shoulder, sending the captain spinning to the ground clutching a bleeding wound. The only reason he didn't immediately stand up was because he didn't wish to see his handy-work, not actually fond of the forms that his illusions often took. In every shadowy face, where others saw darkness, he saw faces of people he wished to forget. He could still see the face of that lad, barely a man, with an arrow sticking out from his chest.

The shadows began to move, hands being the only thing that appeared at first. Inaudible voices clamored from them as they slowly raised into bodies, the bodies going towards the pirate's enemies. They did not discriminate, even the crew able to see them and needing to discern truth from the illusion. It was no easy feat, but Ahriman's crew had fought alongside their captain for a long time, able to see the truth from fiction. Their captain rose to his feet and prepared to push forward a foot at a time when another caw split the air, a lightning bolt crashing down into the first man as he was ten yards from the crew.
The captain howled his snarling battle-cry and ran forward to begin his dance of blades knowing that Elnora was looking over him from the skies above.
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Elissandra
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Elissandra kept her eyes on the captain, mouth pursed tight, color having long left them, looking away angrily as he turned his head to her once more, refusing to look him in the eye. Instead she glared at a crate to the side, tense and barely breathing. What she wanted more than anything at that moment was to cram an iron fist down his throat.

Even preoccupied with whatever emotions were stirring in her mind, she noted the man's actions, expecting to be attacked at any time. And at that moment, she would have no qualms with fighting. The trouble was saved her, however, by the crew of the ship, forming a guard around her. Her pride forced her to reject the action, insisting she could handle whatever danger she was in by herself, but sense won out. The reality of the situation was that she had little to no actual fighting experience, and she was vastly out-armed.

Grudgingly, she adjusted her shoulders and walked in the center of the group.

She was just as surprised as their attacker when Ahriman began casting. Enchantments she had seen, live magic she had not. Elissandra noted the lack of accent with which he casted. Grimacing, she nodded when he spoke to her, still refusing to meet his gaze.

She closed her eyes until hearing the twang of a crossbow, looking at herself alarmedly, searching for the bolt. Finding none, she looked down, seeing the captain just getting up with a bolt in his shoulder. She stared, shocked, as he rose. That shock, however, was nothing compared to what happened next. The shadows began to form men, rising and approaching her enemies. She wrapped her fist around the edge of her tunic, staring as her heart pumped a rapid beat. “Wh-- What've ye done, ye ass?” She whispered, lifting her right arm to point at the shadow-men.

The bolt of lightning struck with the clash of thunder, smiting one of the attackers. Far up the bolt had forked, drawn to her outstretched arm. She jerked as it hit her, feeling as if something were holding her in place as the electricity passed through her. The tingling in her limbs did not pass when the surge had left, leaving her weakened, but uninjured.

“Gods damn.” She rasped to herself. Lifting a hand, she passed it over her sleeve, feeling the tingle it gave off. The thing had probably saved her life. Rubbing the enchanted cloth between two fingers, she became immensely grateful of her clan's work.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman made a quiet note in his mind to her reactions, being quite sure that whatever dreams he had for after saving the lass were long gone. Alas, how many other rum soaked fantasies had he sent to the burial in the depths of his rather awful decisions of spouting words from his face. At least it would give him something to fondly regret when he was steering the ship, instead of solemnly brooding over.
While going through the thoughts, the Pirate absently remembered to remove the bolt from his shoulder, grunting in pain as he yanked it from his flesh. He somehow felt like he would regret that sometime soon, likely when he came out of the trance of battle and realized that he did not break out the bolt in the most professional and efficient way possible.

He did come back out of his trance, however, when he saw the lightning arc over his head, and right towards Elissandra's arm, his fear of having that happen welling up in his throat and causing him to not even be able to cry out. He was dumbfounded when he saw that she survived, not having actually seen a human last after being struck by a bolt of Elnora's lightning, somehow curious how she had done it with the metal of her arm making it that much worse. He had seen things such as jewelry in one's face make the strike a thousand times worse, and the arm was quite a bit larger then some jewelry.

For all of his shock, however, he couldn't hide a smile that crossed his face, stammering with a whistle for a moment to call off Elnora to ensure that there was not a repeat of what had just happened. He was glad for their luck of the girl surviving the bolt, he did not wish to try his hand at her surviving a second one. He felt a chuckle as he thought he may owe her two punches when this was all over, just to make sure they were square.

He turned his head now, knowing that if he didn't get his head out of his arse now he wasn't going to be of any use in this battle, and likely be the cause if they were to die here in this alleyway. He saw the charred remains of the bowman that was amongst the forward group, silently glad that Elnora at least kept her aim sharp enough. Then again, he wasn't quite sure he'd trust her over his head if she didn't have a pretty good reign on her lightning bolts.

He waded into battle, slapping his cutlass against the rogue he fought, the blade smacking against the lad's cheeks. The silent taunt bringing a laugh to the pirate. He slapped the lad between his defense a few times, knowing that the unnerving illusions and his lack of experience made him little match for the Captain's blade, let alone any of his crew members whom he had personally trained.

He felt merciful, bringing the lad in to a low block, slamming his boot into his face to send him far out of the world of the conscience. He suddenly felt that he was getting too soft, his mind begrudging itself for being such a push-over merely because of the presence of a woman. The next rogue that got in his path wasn't so luck, this thought causing him to skip the taunting and go straight for the killing blow.
He snarled again, "Get out o' me way, dogs! I got a ship ta' be gettin' to and yer not gonna get me to be late!"

They pushed on, sounds of battle now coming from their rear guard. The three men in the back were all well trained warriors, he knew, if not on par with the rogues then even better. The bowman that they had with him was quite skilled as well, Ahriman smiling to himself every time he heard the familiar twang of that bowstring.

He felt himself calm as the illusionary spell finally died down, the thieves they were fighting having dispatched enough of the illusionary men for the spell to break. Many of their ambush numbers had escaped, however, and Ahriman felt the turn of events unacceptable. He set his face into a scowl and pressed on, looking over his shoulder for a moment only to yell back, "Double time lads! The wharf be far from me favorite smell and I'm missin' the sounds of the wind on me face!"
There were some cheers, the men eager to return to the boat. Though their guest wouldn't know, the pirates were all well aware that the ship they called home was one specifically built for flight instead of water-travel, and they knew that the escape route they were going to take wasn't exactly what one thought of when they thought of escaping to a boat...
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Elissandra
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Ellie shook off the remaining tingles, feeling like every inch of her body had been asleep, and was now reawakening. The pain fell to nothing, passing quickly. Her heart pumped hard, sending adrenaline coursing through her veins. The world around her seemed to slow, energy of a whole other sort filling the girl.

Looking at the ring of men around her, fighting to keep her from harm's way, her face darkened further as she reached her breaking point.
Turning to face the men behind her, she shoved her way through them, attempting to uncurl her right hand's fingers. They remained clamped down, electricity still playing havoc with the nerves. Shrugging, she muttered under her breath as the first man took notice of her. “Dun need any fingers anyhow.” She cocked her arm back and threw her weight behind the blow, driving an iron fist to the rogue's diaphragm.

The man clutched his torso, eyes bulging, gasping for air. She shoved him away, ready to fight another before the crewmen reformed around her. Spitting on the alley floor, she breathed heavily, heat of battle burning hot in her.

Despite the fury she harbored, turning back to Ahriman brought an unnerving sight as he ended a man's life. Unprepared, Ellie shuddered, emotion fading, mood broken.
“Smell? Wha' smell be that? Bunch o' filthy rotten sailors stuck on a ship ou' in the middle of th' ruttin ocean?”
The woman's face scrunched, an unbecoming look for the young woman. At that moment, more innocence and despair showed itself as she fought down a cry that had naught to do with the words she spoke.

It's useless staying angry with th' man, ye fool. He's just trying to keep ye safe. 'S not every man 'thinks yer hideous fer missin a bit of flesh. She found herself thinking. Frowning deeper, she shook her head. “Ain' no way in 'ell. An' I don't need no fool to keep m' safe.”
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Their gaining of ground did little to hearten the Pirate, for truly the dozen or so men they had cut through to reach the docks were likely not even cutting close to the numbers that the guild had under their thumb. He had dealt with them on a few occasions, none of those occasions ever pleasant, and he found himself sorely regretting that now that he was in a place that they called home. Even in the wilds they boasted numbers more akin to goblins or other brutish races which used numbers for victory. Add that to the skilled precision of a race that thinks more with reason and the Captain slowly disliked his odds of victory more and more. He felt a lump on his throat as he realized that he likely wouldn't see through the night without losing something, be it a crew member, or something of similar worth.
He held little love for the roads that life continually tossed his way.

The back line of pirates were quietly shocked as the woman sent the man sprawling to his feet, not aware of the special conditions of her arm or the strength behind it. All they saw was that with a single swing the person they were trying to protect had laid a man out flat, something that their captain would have had a tough time doing without a few of his weapons and tricks. Loda made a note of this, snarling an order for his men to get back to their job and defend the woman. Standing there slack-jawed wasn't going to get their job done.

He made a small note of the woman, glad to see that the lightning did little more then piss her off, though worrying even more when he realized she was trying to force her way into the rear flank's battle. He felt their pace becoming uncomfortably slow as the men in the back were met with increasing resistance. The rogues were not replacing their numbers as well as a tribe of goblins might, but they were certainly making up for it with clever strategies. He saw at least four of them dead in the alley by his hand, another two knocked clean unconscious, and felt a pang of guilt realizing that his holding back wouldn't end well for them in the least.
He curled up his nose as they reached the mouth of the alleyway that led to the docks, letting the wolf and Allen run ahead and waiting at the mouth of it. He couldn't bite his tongue as the rear line came forward, his voice laced with the implications of his thoughts, "Go on ahead, and do mind the smell o' those rotten sailors. I would hate to cause any discomfort to such a delicate nose."

The men averted their eyes from their captain but understood what he was planning. They weren't remarkably fond of doing it to a port that called them friend and offered trade when they docked into it, but they all knew that the organization they were against likely had a few hands in pies that could make sure that didn't last very long. He stepped in front of the last pirate as they tried to push the woman along towards the docks, towards the waiting arms of the Milla Figli.
Allen joined them then, Loda breaking off as the first mate came to rush towards the boat. If they could unleash their last little ace in the hole then their chances may be considerably better. Mora was a dependable girl, if a bit volatile, and never showed pause when it came to liquifying a few rogues who made the unfortunate mistake of crossing her path. More then one mercenary amongst their ranks had been lost before battle began because of unfortunate remarks they tossed at the yeti, thinking her much dumber then she was.
She'd be a valuable weapon on the docks.

Ahriman waited patiently for the stream of rogues to wade in. They were slow going, watching for any sudden tricks from the Captain. For all their trust and reliance in numbers and strategy, they were a little intimidated by what he had shown himself capable of. A telltale crackle of lightning ran up and down the length of his cutlass as his eyes narrowed dangerously, a sharp, low toned whistle coming from his lips as they came within twenty yards of him.
A lightning bolt cracked from the sky, placed carefully away from the pirate group and the volatile woman. The strength of the bolt splintered the wood of a building, burning debris from the impact sent sprawling into the alleyway. Half of the group was ahead of the sudden drop, three in all from Ahriman's count. He set his face into a grim smile as he noted a crimson glow begin to appear and rise steadily, content that with his card played the flames would do some work for him.

It would win him little love, but they would certainly stop one avenue of entry. He turned without regarding the other three, sheathing his blade and turning for the docks. As ships fully came into view, so did the Mille Figli. The sails of the ship were a beautiful navy hue, the mailed fist covering up the light of a new dawn being a comforting symbol for the crew, heartening to them all. The ship's craftsmanship was obviously of the highest quality, the wood carefully polished and maintained regardless of the constant battering of salty waters and sea winds. The figure head and wings on the ship lent the ship a dragonic look, as if someone had captured one of the majestic beasts in a dweomor that left them in this wooden form.
Ahriman knew that the last two cards he could truly play were on that ship, one of them being the ship itself. He ground his teeth and yelled ahead of him, "Don't ye stop runnin' fer the boats, I'm thinkin' we've got more then rogues on our feet now!"
He spun with his bow drawn now, the twang of his short-bow ringing clearly, a grim smile on his face as the arrow he fired grazed one of his pursuers thighs. He made a note of his need to practice his aim, having hoped to take the main in the heart with that blow.
He didn't fire a second shot, turning to continue his escape.
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Elissandra
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The flash of light startled the girl, flinching as burning wreckage fell into the alleyway, blocking off more of the rogues from advancing. Aside from the three that were on their side, they were clear to move on. She looked over her shoulder as she advanced, watching flames start and catch hold. No man would be going through it.

As Ahriman sheathed his blade, Elissandra concentrated less on being prepared to fight, and more on escaping. She followed after the captain through the alley, coming out of the shadows and into the docks. The alley behind them was awash in a red glow, while the evening threw light off the seas. She stopped a moment, entranced by the waters.

Back home they had several small lakes, caves below rivers and such above ground that had slowly taken on water, eroding the walls smooth. Every so often they encountered running veins of snow-melt. All of it was reasonably-sized, very rarely was one seen over half a mile wide.

The seas were infinitely larger than anything she'd dreamed of.

The waters stretched on as far as the eye could see and beyond. As far as she could tell, they went on forever. There was no way anything could be on the other side of such an enormous body of water. It took her a long moment to realize they had come to the ship, a boat far larger than the small fishing boats they had. It was magnificent, well-polished and intricately carved, sails dyed with a deep blue, a dye only the richest could afford in such great quantities.

And that wasn't the most remarkable part.

“Yer boat's got wings...”

Ellie balked at the carvings, the figurehead distinctly draconian. Almost instinctively she felt herself tense, a pang of fear running through her heart. It looked quite similar to the drake she'd encountered, though on a grander scale. Reassuring herself that it was made of wood and not likely to start moving, she reinforced her resolve.

The twang of the bow brought her back to her senses, breaking the spell. Immediately she made for the ship, hesitantly stepping onto the dock, not trusting it not to fall into the ocean under her feet. There was no way in hell she'd be able to swim even that far, and from what she could tell, the waters were icy, between it being evening and the winter fast approaching.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest at her reaction to his boat. He always prided himself on his boat being a beautiful treasure, and it was always comforting for him to see that such things paid off well. He knew that there wasn't time to let her truly enjoy the scenery, however, the sounds of shouting ringing out from the crowd behind them. Amongst the rogues chasing them now he could confidently number what few guards were on the docks were definitely amongst them. He would accept that stoically, as he did other things. He'd have to avoid these docks for a while, putting in at Cascadia. Not what he wished with the winter months, but a pirate's life was never an easy life.

Loda moved off of the ship at that moment, waving his hand in a complete circle over and over in an attempt to get people aboard. Ahriman was proud of the lad, to be honest. He had picked him up as just a waif on these docks, a lad who was barely able to take care of himself. He had began to mature of late, becoming a very respectable man that Ahriman had gladly trusted his back to over and over. He smiled grimly when he realized he had thought the same of Luka.
He didn't realize how accurate that thought was until it happened.

Loda's arms stopped waving entirely as people rushed up the ramp, his mind not truly comprehending what had happened. His eyes were wide, a painful sensation burning through his chest and throat. He looked down, seeing the black feathered arrow protruding from his chest. The captain felt a flood of emotions, but as each second passed every single one of them became the simplest, most pure emotion that Ahriman had ever felt; Rage.
His eyes lost all shine of emotion, every single ounce of emotion quickly being replaced by the cold calculations of an assassin. He recalled the days when he had been one with the shadows, the day that his dance of battle had been one without heart, without passion. He turned his head to find the bowman, seeing a very well dressed man with a bow that had a silver gilding along it's edge, another black feathered arrow being notched onto his bowstring. He made a note of a blinder the man wore, as well as a rather ostentatious plumed hat, a dark red with a pure white feather that was the size of the man's forearm.
Beyond his curiosity of how he fired so well with all the noises of the place and without his eyes, Ahriman swore that hat would be a few shades more red.

Ahriman snarled, clutching at a necklace he kept hanging loosely around his neck. He darted his eyes towards the ship, drawing his cutlass again and pointing it towards the wharf where the man stood, once again his voice coming out as barely a snarl, "Dimitri, Show them the price of their futile mistakes!"
The ship that had been sitting quietly at port suddenly began to tremble and move, first the wings on the side of the ship spreading out, as if the dragon was shaking away the weariness of it's body. The figurehead began to pull back, yellow lights of life burning in it's eyes as it drew in breath as if it were a real dragon. As it's head shot forward a stream of lightning shot from it's mouth, lightning reaching out for people and objects along the docks, lighting both types of items into flames or reducing them to ash.

He noted that the man stayed out of range, the Captain not waiting for the lightning to clear to wade in. His form passed through areas as the electricity cleared out, giving him a few moments of peace before anyone would be able to even tell it was time to move. He could feel small, stray bolts trying to reach for him, a burn scorching it's way across his cheek.
A necessary pain.
Ahriman crossed to the archer, dodging to the side past one of his guards and not even registering his blade-hand moving out to pierce that man's throat, sending him into a gurgling pile on the ground. He pressed on, snarling in rage as he felt an arrow pass through his thigh. He could see the fear on the man's face as he registered that the shot did not stop or kill his opponent, not seeing the rage etched on his face. If he could have seen, he would have known that a thousand arrows wouldn't stop Ahriman Lordimar from his prey. Not until Loda was avenged.

Ahriman's knee collapsed as he came to the man, his blade passing through the archer's sternum and painting his face in a mask of permanent shock. Ahriman snarled and let his blade's enchantment spark to life, the man's body jerking to and fro under the damage of the electricity. He pulled off the man's hat as he kicked his body from his blade, content that his crew member was avenged. He could feel the pain his leg more clearly now, knowing he wouldn't make it to the boat. But, he knew what he could make it to.

Allen loaded Loda's body onto the ship, carefully making sure that none of the rogues moved in now. They had the reputation of the boat, at least, for what that was worth. The rogues didn't know what waited within, but their allies had likely heard tales of a beast hiding within the bowels of the living ship. Not even Ahriman would wish to stand against Mora in this situation, with allies blood spilling freely. He carefully laid Loda on the deck as the whistle cut through the air, the first-mate closing his eyes in a submissive gesture, knowing he couldn't hope for more then what his captain planned.
He turned to the lass, "Get secured on the deck lass, we're takin' off. Oy! Shep! Get the rope! Make sure Mora's locks are secured, we can't pull this off if she's off the boat. The lightning has bought us some time, I think, so let's use it."
He spouted orders as plainly as a captain, silently hoping that they could reach their captain with the rope when the ship took flight before the rogues overtook him.
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Elissandra
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Elissandra lifted a hand to Lode as she broke away from the group and ran up the ramp, stopping once on the ship. Running felt awkward here, some steps heavier than others. Her balance was thrown off, stumbling to the side. The woman caught the railing with her right hand to keep from falling completely, holding on for dear life as the waves under the boat rocked it ever so slightly.

Looking up, she returned her attention to the scene just in time to see the archer lift his bow in the distance. From where she was standing, it looked like her was aiming for her, the silver on his bow gleaming as he released his arrow.

The world seemed to move in slow motion as the arrow flew true, plunging into Loda's heart. The arrowhead poked into the back of his tunic, raising it slightly where the tip pushed. Blood blossomed from the wound slowly, staining the shirt red. Ellie gasped, watching him fall to the ground.
The captain shouted something she couldn't make out in the shock of watching an ally die in front of her. She'd frozen when danger showed itself, when she could have saved the boy.

Her stream of thought was broken when the ship beneath her began trembling. The corner of her eye caught movement, turning to see great wooden wings stretch themselves out from the ship itself, the draconian figurehead coming to life. Fear shot through her as she realized the ship beneath them was alive in its own right.

The lightning was beautiful, entrancing, and ultimately deadly.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Ahriman charging into the fray, electricity reaching out to caress him as he pursued his target. Blood erupted where their enemies tried, and failed, to contest him. The missile found his knee when he was at the end of his path, but he did not stop, delivering justice.

Ellie found herself panicked, running to the ramp to get off, to go help the man. One of the crewmen hooked an arm around her waist, stopping her. Elissandra gripped the railing, eyes burning. “Let me go! I'll 'elp 'im back!”
Orders were shouted, men preparing the boat to leave in a hurry. “What're ye doin? Ye can't leave 'im behind!”

She wanted more than anything to help, but the reality was, there was nothing she could do. All she was here was a roadblock, in the way. Ellie lowered her head, balling her fists tightly.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The men each wore a mask on their faces, blocking their true feelings of their emotions. There had been hundreds of situations on the Mille Figli where it looked like peril was on their heels, and not once did any of them consider leaving one another behind. It wasn't their way, and it was the only thing that made them proud of their crew. It was the only thing that made them any different from any other dog of the sea. But an order was an order, and when it came from the captain that wasn't an order any of them would turn down.

Ahriman Lordimar may not be a prince as his blood and home would make him, but to the lads who man the Mille Figli he was a king in his own right. The ship's wings began to beat slowly, the sails taking to the wind. They just had to hope that they could get the ship turned around and to the docks in time to retrieve their captain, a move they hadn't been able to try yet, the situation made even worse by his injuries.

As the ship moved out of the port and began to lift off of the seas, Shep tied the lock tightly around the grate in the ship. He could hear Mora pacing uncomfortably within, the yeti well aware of the tension outside. Yetis were smart beasts, and that one was a clever beast even amongst her kin. Ahriman had saved her from a fate worse then death and she was always loyal to him, always wishing to charge into odds against her control to help that crazy fool. Now, though, all she could do was sit there.

Allen growled at it all, shoving Len onto the wheel of the ship. They needed their captain now, knowing that the boat wouldn't leave port without a few extra hands. With Loda gone the woman would need to toss in a hand, and he knew that the working in the hull of the ship Mora would help, and likely hurt some things in the process.

Allen pulled his longbow from his back once again and put an arrow to the string, a stony determination on his face as he began firing arrow after arrow into the crowds below, whether rogue or guard, attempting to keep some of the enemies off of their captain.

Elnora was quicker then her size would indicate, and the sight of her master being caught in the midst of enemies only aided in her flight. As a man moved in towards the back of the pirate captain, the bulk of blue feathers and angry muscle quickly crushed into him, a beak as sharp as a blade stabbing into the quickly-dying rogue's spine. Her head snapped aside, sending the body flailing through the air until it landed heavily in a pile of supplies on the docks. Ahriman smiled at the spectacle, putting his back comfortably against the bird.

He didn't work to hide the smile that grew on his face, he didn't have to. The scarf around his face would have to be sufficient to keep him tied down, he mused. A swing of his blade, though flashy and inefficient, did the word of buying himself some breathing room. The rogues and guards both kept their distance from himself and the bird at his back, the lightning she occasionally cracked off at any nearby soldier keeping them more afraid then his blade.

And then he broke off from his stand-off, sheathing his blade and immediately beginning to climb onto the bird. He clutched painfully at the bird as arrows flew into her hide, causing Elnora to flip violently and fry the archer dead. As he reached her neck he pulled his scarf off, growling as he wrapped it around the bird's neck and whistling sharply. His voice almost squeaked as she lifted off, "Fly faster, ye feathered fool!"
As if to respond to him to let him know what would happen were he not more polite, Elnora fried another of the rogues before turning back towards the boat.

The Mille Figli began to move out of port, flying slowly higher off of the water and moving away from the land. Elnora flew next to the boat, Ahriman clinging tight as the air rushed by and attempted to push him off of her back. He looked down at the ship, watching as Allen tied a rope to one of the posts on it's side. Ahriman huffed pulling the scarf off from around Elnora's neck, wrapping his arm around as he tossed it towards the deck of the ship. It flew hard against the wind and barely caught itself against one of the banisters on the back of the ship, his heart skipping a beat as it almost flew off, Len barely catching it in it's flight.

As Allen tossed the rope off of the side of the ship he knew that it was now or never. He rolled off of the bird, feeling the air take him as he fell free. He could see the water glittering below, the hungering cold that waited for him there more then able to freeze him to the bone before his allies could save him. He closed his eyes, feeling the rope slip into his hand. He felt the burning pain as his body swung violently from the rope, his legs and arms grinding painfully against it until he skidded to a halt.

He hung loosely from the rope, the boat slowly ascending as he hung from it's side. His heart pounded and his limbs shook, the crew cheering up above.
He had made it, and it took him a moment to realize that boats were taking off after them, arrows flying from the docks and their watch towers. Slowly, he began his climb up the rope, arms and legs carefully ensuring he never had a loose hold of it's length.
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Elissandra
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Ellie stood on the deck with her head lowered and fists tightened, ready to strike out at the next person to touch her. She couldn't do anything to help the man who had been protecting her. He was stuck in a crowd of those who likely wanted him dead, and she was out of reach, helpless. Now she was alone on an animated ship with a crew of men she knew less than the one who had invited her. She had no weapons to defend herself with, and at that moment, she was feeling very much like a prisoner.

Looking over the railing, she tightened every muscle she could, looking down at the fighting. The enormous bird arrived, diving into the midst of battle to fight alongside the captain, firing off bolts of lightning every so often. She could see little, but soon enough realized what was happening as the ship began to rise underneath her, her stomach dropping somewhere in the vicinity of her toes. Panicked, she held on for dear life as the ground began to grow smaller.

She never knew until that moment how terrified she was of flying.

“Wot in the nine 'ells is 'appening?” She howled at one of the crewmen nearby as he tied off a length of rope and tossed it over the side. Turning to see the captain riding the lightning-bird, she understood. “Not leavin 'im behind, after all...” She whispered to herself, words lost in the wind. Elissandra didn't allow the feeling of joy welling up inside her to show itself as the man approached.

Her heart nearly stopped when he jumped for the rope, cheering with the crew when he made it, sliding to a stop near the end. She rushed forward, attempting to take hold of and pull the rope. Smile wide on her face, she blinked furiously to banish the wetness gathering in relief.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman felt his limbs wishing to turn to jelly as the wind blew against him, threatening to freeze him where he was. He couldn't hide his rather self-satisfied smile as he saw Elissandra's reaction to his survival, however, laughing a bit as he finally reached the deck and rolling onto his hind quarters. He could feel the adrenaline passing into his limbs, making his fingers feel numb and his heart almost bumping into his throat with each beat. He knew that it would be at least an hour before he could fully get rid of the shakes, especially after the jump he had just went through.

With a relieved sigh he leaned his head against the railing, taking the moment to gather his wits. He looked about the ship, his gaze finally falling upon Loda. He knew that he wouldn't truly be satisfied that the lad was avenged until he planted a knife in the back of the man who organized this bunch of rogues. He set his face into a smile, some mirth finding it's way into it's form, "I think ye'd be happy ta' know what ye helped do, lad..."

He finally remembered two distinct facts. First, he had a guest on his ship and he didn't have the time nor the inclination to contemplate his naval. There was time for that when he was dead. The second point was they were going to be chased and he needed to make sure those boats were destroyed, or at least disabled. He smiled towards Elissandra, giving her a small wink, "Glad ta' see ye were worried lass, always good to feel appreciated. Even more glad ta' see ye made it on-board. I hate to spring this on ye, but with Loda gone we're gonna need yer assistance in runnin' this ship. Think ye could follow the lads' lead and keep this boat movin' long enough to make port in Cascadia?"

He got himself to his feet and made a note of the wound in his leg. He would need to tie it off or something if he wanted to actually make it to Cascadia, but for now he would ignore it. Len came down from the wheel of the ship, handing his Captain the scarf that he had barely saved. Ahriman examined it's dark fabrics and felt a bit of shame come over him as he tied it around his leg tightly, covering his wound as best he could. It was an heirloom of his family bloodline, and he was sullying it with the blood of a runaway, a disgrace.

He couldn't hide the shame on his face as he moved for the wheel of the ship. He would live with it, as he did anything else, when it came to the need of action.

He came to where he was most comfortable, the helm of the ship. His men went about their tasks, not needing the orders their captain was yelling to let them know what they needed to do. It was their job, the one thing in their lives they truly felt comfortable doing. And after all, this was for the sake of survival, and the inevitable revenge for a fallen brother.
Ahriman felt somewhat amused as he realized the hat he stole was somehow still on his person, leaning it forward on his head to give himself a look of determination. This was going to be a fun chase.

He smiled, "Keep 'er close to the water, I don't want them to know where we're headed!"
He wasn't fond of the idea of meeting more of these fools in Cascadia. The ship skidded across the surface of the water, just above it so the only control of their movement was the magical dragon-head that took the guidance of it's master at the helm.
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Elissandra
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Ellie crossed her arms as the captain spoke, slumped against the railing, tension in her shoulders leaving slowly. “Weren't worried fer you. Leaving me 'lone with a bunch o' sailors. In the sky, of all damned places!” She began working herself back up, spitting over the railing. “Lucky for ye, that yer alive. I'd find yer damned soul and bring ye back, just ter put a fist where yer head ought'er be.”

Looking around the ship, she became acutely aware of the situation they were in, missiles filling the air, ships in pursuit. “Ne'er been on anythin bigger'n a rowboat. But i'll give it a shot.” She glanced at his leg wound critically, choosing not to make a remark. She understood well enough a warrior's pride, and even more so that he had a man's pride to go along with it. As well as being captain of the vessel in a dire time, it would be improper to point out weakness.

Elissandra took on a determined look, watching carefully what the other men were doing, noting when one took on multiple jobs, getting a basic grasp of what her job would be. With a nod, she set to work, following orders that were shouted to her and doing what she saw needed to be done.

The woman glanced up at the captain, now at the helm, and his ridiculously plumed hat. “O'ercompensation, cap'n?” She winked, laughing over the wind. As her mind was taken off her duties, concentration waning, she felt the boat moving beneath her. All at once she felt sickness welling in the bottom of her stomach. Holding her hand to her torso, she returned to stumbling around the ship, determined to help despite holding a motion sickness like no other.

“Who gets seasick in th' air?” She grumbled, largely to herself.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman couldn't hold back the smile on his face as she explained the reason she preferred to think of for her concern, though he had to admit that it wasn't one without justification. Though if only because without him then the ship wouldn't be able to operate, and the group would be stuck dead in the water and she wouldn't stand much of a chance with the crew against whatever the rogues brought against them. They could hold out for a while, Mora and Elnora especially helping for some time, but they would eventually find that they would be taken by sheer numbers.
He hated such tactics.

He shook his head and looked her in the eye, "If we make it through this I think I owe lettin' ye take a few swings at me, at any rate. This has been a rather rough way to flirt with a woman, if I do admit that to myself."

He left the comment hanging in the air as he went about his work at the helm, knowing full well that most of the steering was being done by Dimitri. But against the waves but not fully in the water the rudder was shaking violently, threatening to rip it off entirely. It wasn't a prospect that he was very happy about, he had to admit. That would be another thing that would leave them dead in the water unless they wished to give away where they were headed. He didn't like the idea of having to shack out in the middle of a lake in a forest because they had an arm of this guild in Cascadia.
"And if we get through all o' this I think I owe each of ye a drink in Cascadia, the biggest one that we can be gettin'!"

The cheer that sounded off the deck told him that his crew was at least trying to stick to their jobs until they found some place quiet, knowing that Loda was more his first mate to the lads then Allen was, a boy that they looked up to and respected. He was one of the first two members of the crew, and held a certain place in the hearts of the lads that he had helped to save and bring up in the crew. It wouldn't be easy parting with him, and he knew that at least one of them still wasn't recovered fully from Luka.

He felt a pain in his chest as he thought of what he had gotten these boys into. They each had blood on their hands because of him, fighting a cause they had no right fighting in. They each lost people that were like brothers to them, and each time there was nothing they could do. They weren't there to save Luka, and now Loda was gone as fast as he was there.

It was becoming too much for him to think about.
Ahriman Lordimar didn't realize the scowl that was on his face, the beat of his heart causing his blood to pump harder from the wound on his leg, almost causing him to swoon. He realized quickly that the wheel of the ship was the only thing keeping him on his feet, and was silently glad that the thing was at least a little necessary. Now wasn't a time for weakness. He snarled as loud as he could, slamming the necklace he used to control Dimitri into the wood as hard as he could, "Fly harder, I wish to feel the bite o' the wind so hard me tears freeze to me face! To the skies in a mile an' a half, let me feel the clouds between me fingers!"


He smiled down at the woman on the deck and pulled the hat off, tossing it onto the deck with a more-then-amused gesture, "Perhaps, though I can think o' a few things a feather is good to keep around fer."

He chuckled to himself, using the levity to keep on his feet. He knew one bad lurch of the ship would send him flying, but he also knew that he had survived the worst of it. If he could survive the jump from the back of Elnora to the ship now he knew he could stand at the helm and bring courage to his men. He had to, after all that is the role of the Captain.
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Elissandra
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“I'm too good a lady fer ye, dear cap'n. Keep i' up an yer gonna get more'n a few.” She called back to him, tying off the rope she'd been adjusting, tidying various knots she found. The girl kept her head down to hide the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, heart lightening in her chest at the man's commentary.

Ellie eyed the captain as he made his announcement, not joining in the cheer of the crew but rather giving him a smile. “The biggest? Loves, I'll drink all ye under the table.” She challenged, looking over each man on deck. “Ain't no small time sailor's going to out-drink a dwarf-raised woman.”

As she went back to work, she kept an eye on Ahriman, watching the mood gradually change. The men seemed to remain semi-jovial, but she felt the unspoken pain present in all, far more obvious to the captain. Losing one of their men must have been immensely demoralizing, far more to those who knew him best. Elissandra didn't know the boy, but even she felt some sorrow on the crew's part.

Her worry as she noticed the captain's scowl vanished without a trace as he tossed his hat to the deck. Sputtering, Ellie went red-faced, turning a shoulder to him and talking to herself, quite loudly at parts.

“...stick th' damned feather up yer...” She jerked the rope, turning to face him, halfhearted fury washed over her face. “Watch yer tongue, pup, or yer getting more'n a few hits ter be sure!” She shook her head, returning to her duties proper.

After several long moments, she sighed. Walking over to where the hat lay, she scooped it up, inspecting the spot of blood on the brim. Wiping at it with her finger, she shook her head and slapped it against her palm to knock off the dust. Approaching the helm, she leaned against a rail. “Permission to approach, captain?” She spoke the title without accent forcibly, then walked forward without waiting for an answer. She offered the man the hat, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yer hurt, pup. Now I dunno crap 'bout healin, but I know full well that leg's no good ter be up on. You goin ter sit down, or 'm I gonna have to put ye down?” She crossed her arms, right over left to balance the weight. “Or 's this a pride thing? Can ne'er tell with ye folk.”
Edited by Elissandra, Wed Nov 2, 2011 4:55 pm.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Seeing some of the men break off their work to laugh and challenge the woman to a round of the drink right back was something that he had hoped for, at least something similar. It meant that they were willing to push through whatever would come at them, and make it to Cascadia without much trouble. The captain turned his head to see what was chasing after them, noting three boats, one of them built very similarly to the Mille Figli. Another flying ship, perhaps? He didn't want to think about the repercussions if they did have another flier on their tail, not fond of the idea of having to shake a boat in the skies above.

For now he had a mission to do and he wasn't going to get it stopped worries or fears. He was a pirate, dammit, and that came with a responsibility of being a gruff and stubborn man.

He heard a familiar tune in his head as they pressed on, their ship slowly rising out of the water. It was a tune that he had heard when he was a child, one played during carnival where a traveling group of performers would go from town to town in his homeland. A blink of his eyes showed flashes of those memories, of people in masks and with painted faces. They weren't happy memories, not in the slightest, and he felt himself blanch at the idea of this being anything similar.

A chase that inevitable ended in his being caught and punished. His face became like stone as he jerked the ship over hard, moving towards the shore as boats chased after them. He watched as the water got more and more shallow, and to a point that were he to let the ship drift down then it would crush the hull, likely killing some of them and leaving the rest to the carrion that chased behind. He spun the wheel hard, the snarl that came from him barely discernible from one that would come from an animal.

The boat pulled up, the figurehead roaring loud as if a dragon itself was letting out it's rage, the sound of the tip of trees scratching against the masterful boarding of the ship. He could feel a groan of pain from the wood as the ship pressed onward, starting a steep rise towards the clouds above. If there was a flying ship behind them he had no desire to meet them in the open skies. He was a pirate, not a knight, and he would use that dastardly job title to allow himself some sneaky maneuvers.

He felt a pang of guilt in his chest and looked towards his crew, "Grab on tighter, lads! We're gonna be gettin' a bit steeper 'ere!"

The ship banked even harder until it finally reached the clouds, the Captain feeling the air in his lungs tighten sharply as the atmosphere got lighter, his head swooning as the ship finally leveled itself. With a laugh, he placed his forehead against the wood of the ship's wheel. He laughed heartily, enough so that some of the crew looked at him as if he were crazy, "Oy, after survivin' that I may need a few extra punches just ta' be sure I'm alive. Feels like a dream, that..."

He sighed, resting comfortably on the wheel and not responding when asked for permission to approach. He couldn't recall a time that he required such a thing from his crew, let alone visitors they had upon the ship. Even in a desperate situation, he refused to let himself fall to something like that. He laughed again when the woman was done speaking, putting weight on his leg to accentuate the point before he spoke it, "This ain't no pride thing, lass, I assure ye. This is somethin' I've learned after years o' teachin' others how ta' act. They need to think that the man leadin' 'em is more then he is, even if deep down they know it isn't true. A true leader inspires his lads beyond their skills, pushes them to be greater men. If only one o' 'em outlive me to lead their own crew, and push lads to be even greater, then me life was worth it, even if it's endin' here."

He laughed at how depressing that sounded, pulling himself off of the wheel and looking over the railing that stood behind them. He felt an uncomfortable chill on the back of his neck, the clouds shifting uneasily around them. He squinted hard and looked south, but all he saw was a ghost of movement to the right. It was enough to set his knuckles tight enough to turn them white.

He snarled as the clouds parted, revealing another boat very akin to their own, a man standing on the tip of the ship, chanting from what he could see.

He shook his head in recognition, "We got us a storm caller, lads! Get ready fer a ride 'cause I'm gonna make sure their ship never flies my skies again!"

A howl of approval came from every other man of the crew, the Captain turning to Ellie with a smile, "Ye may wish to go below deck fer this, lass. Hide in the cargo bay, or if ye prefer my quarters will be safe, but up here may be a bit chaotic. Ship's gonna be sideways more then it'll be up-an-down, I'd wager."

He tossed her a wink and put his hands on the wheel, acting as if he felt none of the pain at all. The ship turned harshly and broadsided the ship behind them entire. He was unsurprised as a lightning bolt sent by Elnora curved around the enemy boat, a smile crossing his face.

He spoke a whisper into the wind, "Good, I'd be disappointed if it was that easy..."
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