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[P] The Sheltered Life; Private; Outside a tavern on the docks
Topic Started: Tue Oct 25, 2011 4:23 pm (1,022 Views)
Elissandra
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Ellie smiled at the men's responding to her challenge, pleased by the aid she could give to morale. They'd need all they could right now, mourning could come later. When their lives weren't in danger.
She didn't take notice of the ships after them, unaware the situation had changed until he turned to the shore, beginning to run the ship dangerously close. “Ahriman...” She started, sudden liftoff dropping her stomach to her feet.

Elissandra gripped the railing and pulled herself close to it, trying to keep from falling off the back of the ship, forces pushing her back. Groaning, she strained, knuckles of her left hand cracking. When the ship leveled, she slumped, breathing hard in the lighter air. It wasn't too bad, similar to the air in the higher peaks of the mountains, albeit saltier.

“I'd be more'n happy ter oblige.” She began gritting her teeth.

Approaching and leaning forward to look over the deck and working crew, she nodded. “I c'n respect 'at. Yer a good cap'n. But damned worthless if ye die when yer needed most.” She spit on the deck below. She shivered as a cloud touched her in passing, moisture gathering on her arm, fabric clinging to the metal.

Ellie took cue and turned to face the ship behind them, groaning as it came clearly into view. “How many durned flyin' boats be there?” She kicked at the boards under foot, releasing the railing. “Yer skies? Hells, aren' the seas more'n enough for ye lot? Now ye gotta be fightin o'er the air.” She shook her head, spitting again.

“Men.” She said it, both curse and explanation.

“Yer quarters?” She asked, grinning over her shoulder as she walked down the stairs. “Y'know,” She paused, thinking, “I think... I'll pass.” The woman laughed. She understood perfectly well that in a situation like this, she would be little to no use. Best to remain out of the way.

She headed down to the cargo area, feeling the lightning begin flying as much as heard it.

“Gah, smells 'kin ter a wet dog down 'ere. Don't ye lot clean?”
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The Captain had to admit a bit of disappointment that the woman hadn't taken his offer, but he could attempt to rectify that later. For now, the only thing he could bring to mind was the idea of planting a blade in the chest of that wizard's chest, to send the life of a creature who would see his crew dead. He continued to turn the ship, not stopping until the ships were heading straight for impact. The grin on his face was undeniable, a plan formulating every second that he knew would have to work .

The only thing Elissandra could hear over the creaking of wood was a slow, deliberate snoring. Mora had sensed someone coming below deck, though from what she had heard the person was an ally of the ship. Her master -nay, friend- would have called upon her if an enemy was remotely able to get this far, especially without attempting to be sneaky. The yeti kept up her fake slumber, painfully aware that her companion atop the ship likely had a plan for her that involved staying below. Perhaps defending the fleshy thing that had came down? She couldn't be sure, so for now she would sleep, her white fur remaining happily warm even at this high altitude.
Still she couldn't help but let out a huff that an observer who looked past the fact it came from a yeti could identify as a sigh. Sometimes she wished she had remained in the north, where the cold weather would keep her comfortable. The yeti had no taste for such silly things like heat. Or boats, for that matter.

The ships faced one another, and Ahriman could feel tension growing through his body, his muscles cording tightly and his spine tingling. The figurehead of the enemy ship was very akin to his very own, and he was surprised that the power of the ship didn't roar to life and spray it's deadly attack all over the pirate's ship. The pirate fully planned to do it, and dreaded to find out what power the enemy ship had exactly. His surprise was complete as both ships passed one another's points where the figurehead could be used, neither of them firing. He wanted them to show their hands first, but with the way the clouds were gathering, and the movements of the caster on the enemy deck, the pirate felt that he would need to move soon.
A killing blow needed to be made.

As the ships passed by one another their hulls scraped together, the superior power behind the Mille Figli holding up a bit better then the enemy boat. Still, neither crew fired upon one another, most of the members simply trying to hold fast and not fall to their deaths. They could all hear the groaning of the boats and the woods wish to fall apart and cast them all to the clouds below them. Ahriman wasn't going to let it pass on just that, though.
He yelled as loudly as he dared, his boys having their attention on him already. He was glad to see his lads were more prepared for the trials of air-combat then the enemy vessel. He couldn't help but laugh, "Grab the line and pull as hard as ye can! We need ta' get the ship all the way around and hit them right on the side a'fore they can turn around and circle us again! Once the blow is landed we move in and start the first blows!"
The crew howled and moved to the mast, pulling hard at the rope that helped guide it, all of their strength pulling hard to turn the boat as hard as possible. The figurehead roared in protest as if the boat itself fought against the force, the entirety of it churning. Ahriman turned hard at the wheel as his men pulled, the strain of the ship felt in his hands just as strongly as it was in theirs.


Mora felt the strong buck of the ship as they slammed into the other, roaring into life to stop the supplies that she knew would move to crush the guest of the ship. She didn't wait to see reactions as she moved to put her body between the small frail human and the large crates of supplies that would send her to the chilly embrace of death. The yeti let out a harrumph and looked to the woman, holding fast to the crate and waiting for the ship to steady.
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Elissandra
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Ellie cursed, sitting on one of the crates in the room, paying little attention to her surroundings. Pulling off one of her boots, she fished around for a stone that had been irritating her, but hadn't noticed until she had the opportunity to sit down. The small, black rock must have been kicked into her half-boot during the struggle and rush to the ship.

Tugging the boot back on, she fell forward as the boat jerked, cargo shifting. Coming up to her feet, she paled as she saw the supplies beginning to slide in her direction all-too-quickly. Time seemed to slow to a crawl just as an enormous white-furred beast came between her and her certain death.

Ellie's heart took a short while to return to a normal pace as she processed the situation. Mora was before her, the two looking each other in the eye. Twitching as the yeti huffed, she recalled what the creatures was. She'd seen two of her kind before higher up in the mountains, and had been entranced by them.

Ellie walked relatively normally despite the motions of the ship, balance suddenly normal after the chaos above. She approached the creature with respect in her eyes, reaching out to place a hand on the yeti's arm, pausing fearfully for a moment. "Thank you, neve dama." She murmured respectfully.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The ships began to dance around one another, each turning to ensure that the other couldn't land a killing blow, and their crew members firing arrows at one another whenever possible. Ahriman's eyes were quite thin as he questioned why they weren't being hammered with lightning. He knew because of Dimitri it'd have little effect, but perhaps they had informed this crew of the ship's breath attack from before? If the mage had knowledge of his own ship he'd know what would happen, he supposed.
It made for an interesting situation, he'd give it that.

Mora let out another sigh and fell onto her rump, letting her back keep the boxes in place. She was never comfortable in the below decks, and she surely couldn't admit to it without having to go well against her nature. She grumbled, leaning to wrap her arm around the other side of the lass that had come down to share the hold with her. The ship wasn't too large, and the yeti was about average for her kind, the sort that ships weren't often built for. She could easily shield the woman without having much more trouble. She let the touch on her arm go by, laying her head on her arm and letting out another huff as she sat still, knowing this battle wasn't over. Not even close.

"Allen, take the wheel! I'll change the tide o' battle if it be the last thing I do!"
The first mate nodded, taking a hold of the wheel only seconds after Ahriman had let go, the captain breaking off in a run. Each step of his foot was painful, the pain in his leg surging with each one. He snarled away the pain, knowing there was nothing he could do about it dead. Allen barely held the wheel steady, unsure of how his captain had pulled it off after being wounded. The ship tugged and complained at their efforts, and they were paying for it.

The ships passed by one another, the Mille Figli rising hard as they closed in and turning almost completely sideways. Most of the crew grabbed tight to something, knowing if they didn't they'd get tossed into a fall they likely wouldn't survive to reach the bottom of. Ahriman howled, rage in his eyes as he bounded for the deck of the enemy ship, the fanatical wrath in his eyes and the maneuver he made putting shocked faces on every man that stood on the deck against him.

Though many of them stood agape upon the deck of their ship, Ahriman Lordimar held no such shock for seeing a man fly through the air in an insane frenzy. He landed with a roll, sliding along his knees as he came up, swinging his cutlass in a wide arc as he hit neared the end of his slide. before he even got one of his feet beneath him his blade found it's mark in another man's midsection, sending him bleeding to the deck of the ship. As the second foot found it's way beneath him he began his beautiful dance of death with another man, four masterful strikes of his weapon sending the man to the deck dead.

He and the mage locked eyes and they both narrowed their respective orbs greatly. Battle was about to be met, the likes of which this foreign crew had never seen. Ahriman snarled away the pain again as he ran for his foe, his brow furrowing greatly as he counted in his head, waiting for the thundering cry of the killing blow that would send him to his end.
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Elissandra
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Ellie frowned as the yeti put an arm around her, debating with herself on a course of action. She could hide out below decks with Mora, where it was warm and relatively safe, or she could put her life in danger and try to help out above decks, where men had sharp, dangerous weapons that could easily sever another limb, or worse her head.

But nobody had ever accused Elissandra Durrall of making good decisions.

“Neve Dama, I need ter go. I've got many questions, but they'll 'ave ter wait fer later.” She ducked under the yeti's arm and ran for the stairs leading above.
She gathered herself before stepping out of the quiet safety of the cargo hold, and into the midst of an aerial battle like nothing she'd ever seen.

She took quick stock of the situation, balance improving tenfold as she took her mind off the ship's motions, simply moving with it. She nearly lost her footing as the Figli turned in the air. Seeing Ahriman charging the other ship, she cursed at his foolishness. Faintly aware of men noticing her and attempting to stop her, she followed after the captain, jumping onto the railing and closing her eyes as she leaped over the skies between them, letting chance take her.

The gamble paid off semi-effectively, tumbling as she struck the deck at an unexpected angle. Trying to pay no attention to the warm, sticky fluid her right hand was set in, she stood and backed up several paces. One of the enemy crew noticed her, brandishing a cutlass. Seeing she bore no weapon of her own, he foolishly approached. “Well, I'll be damned. Lovely creatures serving themselves up on a silver platter. Pity I can't leave ye alive. You'd be so much fun.” He grinned, tracing a finger along the back of his sword. Ellie lifted her chin, fear evident on her features. Egged on by the feeling of superiority and control, the man dashed forward, thrusting at her midsection.

Ellie grinned, stepping back and low, slapping her left hand on the flat top of the cutlass, driving it to the ship's boarding, and sprung forward, slamming her right fist into his diaphragm. The man fell to the deck gasping for air he could not catch, sword forgotten.

Satisfied he was out for the count, she found Ahriman, engaged in a battle of his own. As he charged the mage, Ellie's attention was on his leg, worry filling her. What if he didn't make it out alive?

Her worry blinded her to her immediate surroundings, the remainder of the crew recovering from the shock of seeing enemies jumping ships. Instinct saver her as she lifted her right arm, deflecting a cutlass aimed for her face. The man nearly dropped his sword, leaving an opening. Lifting her right leg, she drove her heel into the leg the man carried his weight on, breaking the knee.

“Ahriman!” She called out, attention fixated on the man and the danger he was in.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The calling of his true name caused the pirate's head to turn halfway, his body dipping low as he did. A movement, he would find, that had saved his life. The air next to his head crackled and dried with the power of the electrical bolt that passed by his face, the force of it burning at the side of his head, causing the skin on that side of his head to sizzle painfully. He planted both of his feet in front of him, not taking the time to thank his lucky stars. He sent his entire body into the roll, finding himself looking the mage in the eyes for a split second before he found himself behind the man, the elf agile for his profession.

But like most mages, he hadn't learned enough of how to use his body to know that what he had just done would send him off his balance. He took the extra moment to dance his feet around to set them right, a small moment that had given Ahriman the time he needed.

The cutlass passed through the man's ribs, Ahriman's other arm wrapping around his neck to pull him as close to him as possible, his forearm biting hard into the man's neck. He had seen enough of mages and the power they are willing to call up when they face their ends to know he didn't wish to let the man cast a single spell now that he was slowly dying. The pirate felt all the pain he had been hiding behind his rage wash away as his blade took the life of the mage that had made this entire ship the danger that it was. As the color began to leave the mages face he felt his muscles slack, the body of the elf seeming to weigh double what it did before as he tossed it off of his blade, falling off the side like a stone.

But when he saw the lass he knew that it wasn't the time to lay down and let his wounds take him. Another of his crew was avenged, full and true, but he needed to protect the person he had been protecting this whole time. The pirate moved forward until he could place himself between the woman and the enemy crew, his eyes locking in on the nearest man, a smile crossing over the captain's face.
"Sorry about that lass, but I'll have ta' thank ye. That distraction saved me hide, likely more'n I'd like ta' admit at that."

He sighed and shook his head, "That's a pain to keep up anymore. I suppose a thank you is just as well without the strange articulation."
He felt so much relief at simply speaking in his own voice, another bit of his demeanor that he felt he should bury deep beneath the graves of his two crew who had already met the depths. He stood tall, letting his leg throb as much as it wanted, the pirate-nay, the prince- readying himself as the enemy crew comfortably set up a semi-circle around the pair.

He chuckled, "It seems your arrival threw them off their guard about as much as their mage being tossed off like a loose stone. I suppose this won't help."
A short, sharp whistle started the enemy crew, the first man that took it as a sign of battle finding out how true his estimation truly was. The bolt of lightning that slammed into him was enough to send him to the deck of the ship, his body in spasms and being alive just long enough to truly know what pain is. The crowing of Elnora was the only indication of what truly had happened.

Ahriman didn't toss out any taunts or insults now as the crew began to move in on him now, his body moving as gracefully as it could as wounded as he was, his cutlass spinning in wide arcs and defensive circles more then offensively, keeping the enemy crew at bay as best he could. He knew that Allen would be their savior, though he wished the time would come sooner.
Much sooner.
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Elissandra
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Elissandra gasped as the lightning bolt barely missed Ahriman by several inches, snapping past her. Her sleeve vibrated as the bolt passed by, canceling out what little shock she'd have gotten from the proximity. She didn't notice as her left hand clapped up to cover her mouth when he ran the mage through.

“Sorry about wha'? 'E would've killed us both if ye didn't.” She spoke the words, but didn't feel them, just instinctual forgiveness. As the rest of the crew closed them off from escaping the ship, she pulled each arm close to her chest, stretching. Looking at the captain with a frown, she shook her head. “Who be ye, Ahriman?” she sighed, demeanor hardening for battle.

The man's swordplay was stunning, effectively keeping the men at bay. “Tryin ter keep me out o' th' fight's real polite an' all, but I think I c'n handle meself a bit.” She watched his motions, watching his body for movement rather than his swordplay, finding a gap, and ducking under a forward arc, jabbing her pointed fingers into the diaphragm of one of the men.

Ellie lifted her hand, using the back of her gloved right to guide a slice away from herself, driving a bare left hand into his jaw, rising close and shoving him away. Trusting in Ahriman's swordplay to not be sliced to ribbons, she backpedaled.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman was silently thankful that his brain occasionally had a good thought as his opponents broke enough for him to have a few seconds, the woman creating a decent enough of a distraction. What few of them weren't leering were distracted by the fear of getting an iron limb smashing their jaws into their skulls. It was all the time he needed, the words of magic passing over his lips as smoothly as any other word, the wound on his leg glowing for a moment as the weak spell took effect, cutting off the bleeding and helping him to stand more evenly.
The pirate let out a sigh of relief and a chuckle, "Last mistakes, gentlemen."

He rushed behind the women, feinting as if he was going to go around her left, rolling and twisting around her right - and the mast of the ship - and coming up upon the rear flank of most of the pirates that had set against the pair from their front. The first man had little time to react to the sudden shift in his enemy, the darkness of death taking him long before his head could turn. Ahriman's leg wasn't back to full functionality, but it was strong enough to carry him at a speed that was rather impressive for a man his size. His feet twisted and worked with parries and dodges, more then once doing them while jumping between enemies and obstacles of a ship's deck.
Being quick on his feet was a specialty of his, after all.

And then his vision caught on to some of the witless fools attempting to flank the woman he had put in his head as his charge. Logic was quite possibly the first thing that left his mind as he let a cutlass rake across his arm as he rushed past two brigands, one of them finding a spinning kick into his knee and a hard backhand sending him painfully over the side of the ship. The grunt of pain came out more as a growl of rage as he neared the first of the flankers, sliding onto his knees and sweeping his blade in front of him.

He didn't wanna look at his handiwork as the man went in three different directions. The next target was much luckier, Ahriman not able to completely dodge the strike sent at him, causing a mild cut above his eye that blinded him on his right side. He cursed his luck but let his instincts control that side, his primary hand. Where precision would be used he used wider, more showy moves to throw the less skilled opponent off balance, seeing in his eyes that he expected something masterful to slip through the move and strike him down each time.

When the man's defenses slipped and the cutlass found her mark, Ahriman wore no smile forever. He kicked the man from his blade, using the move as a weapon against the man behind him.
"Rest well, friend. I hope wherever you go is peaceful."
He continued his work, his moves gradually slowing as more and more enemies came in. He began to wonder just how many of these bloody fools they had stuffed into this damned ship.

Allen pulled hard at the wheel of the ship, the crew working hard at their assignments along the deck. The ship roared loudly as they turned fully to face the enemy ship from the front. The enemies ship was nice but theirs was faster, and the MIlle Figli had no issue circling around to the front of it. Allen's course was clear, and he knew his captain wanted the enemy ship careening down towards the dirt before he was pulled off of it, woman or not.

Allen let out the order to the ship as the neared, lighting spouting from the figurehead and wrecking it's way up and down the enemy ship. Allen knew he needed to work fast now, quickly attempting to spin the ship and put it under the enemies.
The other ship was burning, and he needed to be sure he could catch his Captain before it hit the dirt.
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Elissandra
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Ellie kept her mind off the death occurring on every side, closing her attention to the battle at hand and observing her surroundings. She couldn't see the Figli immediately, backing to the edge of the ship before she saw it below them, flying underneath. Ellie gripped the railing as the Figli began to rake the ship with lightning. The electricity ran so powerfully she could see it running, jumping gaps between the boards in the hull.

“Ahriman, yer boat's 'ere...” She called out, looking down at the Figli.

Taking a deep breath, she lined up the distance, climbed onto the railing, and held it behind her, front open to the elements.

“I could've been safe righ' about now. Down below with the furry bear-woman...”

Holding her breath, she edged along the side, stepping on a slightly-rotted piece of boarding, which broke off underfoot, letting her fall away. Her right arm popped, having been holding the railing when she fell, eliciting a yelp as it released.

She cut her back on the broken wood as she fell past it, falling through the air for half a second before she hit the sails of the Figli, slowing her fall into a slide. Her right was barely moving, instinctively gripping a rope as she slid by, swinging herself. Hanging for a second, she let go, falling to the deck and bending her knees to absorb some of the shock of impact.

She fell to hands and knees on the ship Figli's deck, right arm hanging useless at her side. Rising up shakily, she felt around the shoulder. It had disconnected at some point during the fall, her stunt with the rope fully ripping it out. Cursing heavily, she noted the blood beginning to seep where the metal socket in her shoulder had torn her flesh some from the strain. Holding it close to make sure it didn't fall off, held in place by her leather harness under her tunic, she looked above, watching for the captain in worry.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman felt the ship rock hard as the lightning slammed into it, quickly tearing from the ship it's ability to stay aloft. He couldn't help but laugh as lightning arced above his head, frying at the ship's sail and setting it aflame. The mast snapped at the center, wood splintering and showering over those nearest to it. The chaos of it all was the sort of thing that he secretly wished for in each conflict, the constant flow of battle that made his veins stand on end. He waded in, his eyes locking onto the captain of the vessel who had finally decided to show his face now that his ship was quickly becoming fire wood.

The prince-turned-pirate squeezed tight on his weapon's hilt, his knuckles going white as the idea quickly formed into his eyes. The gaze he and the enemy captain gave one another told all those around that the two were going to do battle, and those that stepped in would likely be struck from both sides. The plans first step was already complete.

A fleeting moment of worry came over Ahriman as he thought of if the woman had made it to his own ship, but that quickly left as the enemy captain moved in to fight, a longsword of all things in his hand. Ahriman almost felt bad for picking this man as his target, the weapon he used very obviously not designed for ship fighting and the man's skills probably not the best for it either. Were the brigands just tossing jobs to whoever they felt was most expendable? His best guess was yes, yes they were.

He began a steady rhythm of attacks, slightly quicker then he meant because of the reflexes on his blind side kicking in more then his intentions. The enemy captain parried and blocked more then he could attempt to attack, but he got a few through. It was what Ahriman wanted, of course.

Slowly the captain of the Figli began his game of pretending the enemy captain was getting to him, backing them up in the direction of where the woman had jumped off not moments before. He let the captain push him slightly inside of the ship, guiding the fight more then any of them realized. The captain that let this all happen was a final mistake that the brigand was going to make, and he realized it as soon as his blade was locked against the hilt of Isabella.

Ahriman couldn't help but laugh, "Sorry, but that was the final mistake."
A sharp kick sent a sick snap through the air as the captain's arm shattered under the impact of Ahriman's boot, no glee or surge of victory passing through the pirate as he realized his window was slowly closing. a quick spinning slash cut at the achilles tendon of the enemy pirate as he tried to turn and run, and the sheathing of Isabella sealed the image of what was about to happen into his enemies mind forever.
The impact of the table took the air from the captain's lungs, both of their lungs as soon as they hit the free falling air over the side of the ship.

The two men fell and Ahriman's conscious finally kicked in. A heavy headbutt into the man sent him spiraling out of consciousness, enough so that he wouldn't feel what was about to happen as they closed in on the Figli, the ship slowly moving out of the area that would let the captain land safely. Twenty meters, fifteen, ten, they slowly closed in...
Another sick snap as the pair hit the railing that lined the helm of the ship, the cushion that Ahriman had brought with him bouncing and throwing itself against the side of the ship as he was sent rolling along the deck, a laugh escaping him as he finally stopped rolling along.
He coughed as the air began to push back into his lungs in a healthy rhythm, his voice weak as the crew began to gather around him. As the enemy ship burned into the clouds he raised his fist, "Victory."
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Elissandra
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Ellie gripped her metal elbow in her left hand, holding it aloft to release some of the strain of it hanging in place. Blood was seeping into her tunic slowly, but the wound itself was more debilitating than serious. She wouldn't be able to rely on its holding the arm until healed.

The captain's flight seemed to pass all-too-slowly for her as she watched the two falling through the air, irrational fear curdling her stomach, adrenaline pumping through her veins as they hit the railing above, tumbling down and hitting the deck hard. She rushed forward with the rest of the crew. Her head spun with the movement, blood pumping harder. Her shoulder bled more profusely, starting to spread from beneath the leather sleeve covering her arm. The glove on her hand was roughed, a small hole started along the seam on the edge.

Approaching the captain as he raised his fist, her attention was fully focused on him, ignoring the flaming ship overhead as the sails caught, fire raging. She ignored the pain in her shoulder, dropping the iron arm at her side, where it hung limp and useless. Stepping forward, she reached to grip his collar with her left hand, eyes blazing.

“Ye reckless son o' an 'ore. Ye ever pull summit like this again, I'm fer givin ye more'n a swift blow to the 'ead. I'll 'ave yer balls and feed em to the fish, ye've got m' word.” Ellie shoved at his chest, breathing heavily as she tried to calm herself.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The entire crew was frozen in shock at the woman's reaction, unsure if they should back off or grab her and pull her off of the captain. They were used to the man pulling off insane tricks, and often bet each and every one of their lives on his insanity. They likely wouldn't use such a harsh word to describe it, but the Captain would gladly accept that what he had just done was nuts, which was why he could only respond to the woman with a small smile on his face, and a light chuckle, "Would you have liked me to jump on my own? That could have hurt without a cushion."

He waved the crew off back to their respective duties, Allen knowing that they were putting the ship in at Cascadia, and knowing the route to take. He had taught the lad how to steer the ship and their most used routes of travel, he could handle it alone. Ahriman became sharply aware of the pain in his chest, his ribs having been cracked with the impact. He knew that he wasn't going to come out unscathed, but he had the feeling that this injury would be something he'd carry with him for a while.

When she shoved at him the pain became even heavier, the Captain taking a minute to pull himself to his feet. With a small smile, he spoke so only she could hear, "Besides, the enemy Captain has something on him that I'm finding myself in need of."

He turned and moved towards the helm, the lads trying to work to get the body off of the ship before it started the not-so-slow process of decay. The captain raised his hands to stop them as they reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the helm, Ahriman leaning over to search the man. He found plenty of gold and a few items of sentimental value, but not what he was looking for, at least not until he found a hidden pocket beneath the breast pocket of the man's shirt.

He pulled out a similar token to the one he had removed from the rogues earlier, this one denoted with a pair of sabers behind the symbol. A captain's token, one that Ahriman would need were he wishing to get in. There were many things he could hide about himself, but it was easy to tell that the man around him held a certain air of respect for him. It wasn't something he was willing to bet his life on it being hidden well, and he wasn't going to go into a lion's den alone. This would have to do to complete his gambit.
He held it up and nodded to his lads, who finished their grim business as their captain stashed the coin in his pocket. That would do indeed.

Looking towards the door that led to the lower hull of the ship Ahriman sighed. It was about time he took the time to stop the bleeding above his eye, or the scrape across his arm. He could feel his head swimming, the blood leaving the wound at an impressive rate. With a look at the woman and a gaze towards his shoulder he got the feeling that he wasn't the only one needing some repairs, so to speak.

He stood up straight and looked up for a moment, feeling rather comfortable for the first time in the last forty-eight hours. He waved a hand at the woman in a gesture to mean follow him, moving towards the door to the hull. There were bandages in the supplies kept down in the lower decks of the ship, and he knew that that was likely as far as she'd follow him in the lower quarters.

Once he reached the lower decks he moved towards the first aid equipment quickly, which amounted to mostly bandages and a few knives used to help remove metal from some of the more severe wounds suffered on the ship. He remained silent as he took out the first bandage and wrapped it around his head, making it possible for him to actually see out of his eye once he finished wiping it off.

He turned to look towards the woman and pulled a smaller box around to sit it next to him, "Have a seat, you need someone to at least pretend to fix that up before it screws itself up more. Your clothes are getting bloody."

He leaned against the box that had carried the bandage and waited for the woman, not wanting to rush the situation to a point where she'd punch him out of consciousness, which he honestly suspected would happen within the next twenty four hours. With a smile, he nodded towards the box, "Sooner you sit down the sooner you can punch me."
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Elissandra
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Ellie cocked her head, slowly resting her hand on her arm once more, wincing. She watched the captain search the corpse, coming up with some minor treasure and another coin. Ellie unconsciously touched the pocket that held hers, understanding. She moved with him as he gestured, approaching his side and walking with him.

As they walked, Ellie relaxed some in that there were fewer people around. Glaring at Ahriman for the comment, though she'd long since figured he knew, she pulled the knots of leather cord free of the sleeve, unbuckling it. Tugging on the fingers of her glove, she pulled it loose gingerly, sliding it from the iron hand.

Tugging the sleeve off, she let it fall to the ground, exposing the metal arm fully, hanging from several leather straps. Reaching beneath her tunic, she removed the straps, letting the arm come free. It hit the boarding with a heavy thud, leaving the woman leaning to her left, overbalancing.

Reaching down as she gathered her bearings, she gripped the arm by the wrist and lifted it with a light grunt. She set it on a shelf, leaning against the box next to Ahriman, instinctively covering the metal socket embedded in her shoulder and blushing.
Closing her eyes, she slowly moved her hand, feeling more exposed than she ever had.

“Yer pushin fer a good nap, pup. One I'm eager to be helpin ye with.” She growled, moving a lock of hair from her face.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman couldn't help but smile at the reaction of the woman when she revealed the metal arm, what he had suspected would be beneath for a bulk of the time they had spent on the run to be honest. With a smile on his face he remained silent, not making a comment as he stood behind the woman, first wrapping the bandage around the shoulder joint itself, making sure nothing would leak out.
As he began to wrap the bandages around her body he began to pass it off to her, not wanting to pass any boundaries that would get him slapped earlier then he was owing it, but not wanting to arm to fall out of it's bandages prematurely.

"I suppose it's a bit personal, what caused the need for the arm?"
He let the question stand on it's own legs, not wanting to push to far and have another chance of getting slapped. He had had a great many scars, not all of them physical, that he would rather keep to himself, and he was sure he wouldn't be insulted if she'd like to keep the story to herself. After a few moments of silence the snoring that Mora had been faking stopped, the yeti obviously interested in the pair, if only because she wanted to be sure they weren't falling dead.

Ahriman began to hum quietly, causing a rhythm of snoring from Mora that one could mistake for a yeti singing along with her companion. It actually took Ahriman a moment to realize what he was humming was a song that his nanny used to sing to him to put him to sleep, a song about a sailor who promised to return home to a maiden and never making it back. It was a sad song, especially for a child, but the woman would always insist it would one day fit the young prince, she just knew it.
He'd have to remember to send a flower to her grave, let her know that she was right.

He decided while the situation remained awkward he would at least get the swallowing pride bit out of the way. He made sure to lead with a sigh, "I suppose I should both be saying thank you and you're welcome. Glad to save your life, and there was a few moments there you saved my hide. Is that even or do you think you owe me something? That sounds about right."

The smile on his face made it very clear he was joking as he made his slow limp to the other side of the woman, sitting down on a crate and laying an arm over his chest. He leaned over a moment and moved the puff of hair she had blown off of her face fully, "Or how about we just say those punches are about square? I've been beaten up enough to day, I think. And I have a sinking feeling seeing me again isn't high on your agenda."

He chuckled and regretted it immediately as pain went through his chest. He laid his head heavily onto a second crate and crossed one leg over another, feeling that he could fall asleep right there and not truly regret it. It wouldn't be the first time, and certainly not the last.
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Elissandra
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Ellie winced as the bandages touched the wound, gripping her thigh tightly and grinding her teeth. After the initial wave of pain, she sighed, relaxing slightly. She watched his hands carefully, taking over after the point of crossing boundaries. Wrapping them around her chest, she winced as she found a painful spot in her left ribcage, definitely bruised, possibly cracked.

At his question, she looked him in the eye. “Lost th' one I was born with.” She stated as if it were obvious, though the look she gave him told him not to pursue the topic a further. She quieted with him, glancing over at the yeti who appeared to be asleep, though her breathing seemed too quick. Ahriman's humming took her by surprise, listening to it with her eyes closed.

Ellie listened for a moment before joining in, humming along what she could gather from the tune.

The woman smiled slightly, momentarily forgetting the situation. His words brought her back, remembering she was sitting with him, for the most part helpless. She hadn't realized before how small she felt without the iron limb, even though nobody knew it existed most of the time. It was her security blanket.

Deciding she wouldn't be fighting in the immediate future, she reached back, pulling on one of the loops in the knot holding her hair back. Tugging the leather cord free, she ran her fingers through her hair, letting it down.

She chuckled dryly at his joke. “Maybe I'll owe ye later.” She tensed as he moved the hair from her face, but relaxed, deciding he wouldn't do anything rash. “I'll be owin ye a good hit, yet. But I won't take it yet. And,” She grinned with a glint in her eye “Don't think yer so low on th' agenda, darlin. Jus' don't go 'bout jumpin off any more flyin boats and we'll be golden.”
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