When the dingy hit the water, Do’Karth tensed to the point where he wasn’t sure if his back would snap under the pressure. The small boat rocked violently on the waves, in ways that the ship managed to largely negate, and despite the preferable chance to escape, the ordeal was harrowing, and frosty ice water splashed the occupants as their strong rowers fought against the waves to bring the boat to shore. 

“You know what they say; never put all your Khajiits in one boat.” R’ihanna joked nervously, and Do’Karth wished he could have found the spirit to at least offer a humoured chuckle, but even his throat seemed to have been paralyzed as they fought to reach land. The lady khajiit almost immediately called out a potential landing spot, to which Do’Karth looked towards with eager eyes. Landfall happened shortly after, and Do’Karth regained his sense of self as he helped drag the boat onto the beach, only for the survivors to have been immediately accosted by a group of dunmer in strange naturalistic armour. He didn’t concern himself with what exactly an Armiger was, but he gathered enough from Trius’ concerned voice that they were some kind of elite warrior, or feared raider. 

Do’Karth had regained his sense of self now he was on dry land, and he was confronted with a situation he was rather comfortable in dealing with. When one of the dunmer glared at Trius and declared him a traitor, Do’Karth spared a glance towards their companion to gauge his reaction. There was a story there, to be sure, but one to be told when danger had passed. A tug on the bottom of his budi caught the khajiit’s attention, and Solveig was sitting next to the boat, having gained consciousness at an awful time; wide eyed and pale, she was afraid. She pleaded for him to stay out of the fight, largely because he was useless without armour and nothing more than a staff. Do’Karth grinned at Solveig, looking far more at ease now than he had for days on sea. “Ah, Solveig. It wounds me that you think a true khajiit warrior needs armour. This is what Do’Karth was born to do, he has a duty to his friends.” He said, stepping away from Solveig and towards the Armigers, beginning to spin his quarter staff with the same warm up motions he did before every fight to limber up his limbs, the impressive display of flourishes announcing that his foe was about to engage a skilled warrior who was as much of a part of a weapon as any other part of his body.

An Armiger with a spear squared off to fight Do’Karth who uttered a quick prayer, “S’rendarr, the Runt, this one’s god of mercy, guide Do’Karth’s strikes so his foe may live; this dunmer knows not whom he fights.”

The Armiger thrust, something Do’Karth sidestepped easily with quick, light footwork, and a second thrust was knocked aside by the clockwise rotation of his staff, which he brought the end up and thrust towards the chest of his adversary in a flurry of jabs, which the Armiger skillfully stepped back and pivot to avoid. As the dunmer brought in for a hard thrust, Do’Karth leapt towards his opponent in a handless cartwheel, bringing his staff down hard with the momentum, his circular motion giving a hard impact with his weapon, which smashed against the top of the bonemold shoulder plate, prompting the Armiger to shout in sudden pain; his shoulder likely wasn’t broken thanks to the ample protection, but the blow was enough to destabilize him and bring him off balance. Do’Karth landed into a roll which he brought his staff into a short, impossibly swift swing that smashed into the dunmer’s helm, knocking it clear off the mer’s head and causing the Armiger to collapse to his knee in pain, desperately clutching his neck.

The khajiit didn’t have time to celebrate or continue to work on his foe, and he brought his staff up behind his neck to avoid the cleaving of a blade. Holding his staff in position, the khajiit made his way to his feet again swiftly, breaking the weapon lock with the sword by keeping the staff between himself and the blade while bringing his weapon into motion towards the Armiger’s head, who was forced to duck under the swing and bring his shield up to block the downwards strike that followed, giving Do’Karth a moment to take several steps back while keeping his weapon in motion, giving himself the opportunity to put power into a strike if his adversary charged. The first Armiger he’d engaged struggled to his feet, his face contorted with pain and rage. 

When Sevine bellowed out a war cry that Do’Karth mistook for agony, he looked over to see her bring the axe down into her foe’s wrist- and buying time for Do’Karth’s own adversaries to press their advantage. Advancing swiftly, shield raised and weapon alongside it to thrust, the swordsman moved in on Do’Karth, trying to negate the range advantage of the staff. Meanwhile, the spearman moved to get to Do’Karth’s flank. Driving his staff into the shield to halt the advance momentarily, Do’Karth spun around to face the spearman once again, whose movements were sloppier than before, likely from his head having been considerably rung by the strike. He was hesitant to advance on the khajiit, remembering all too well what had happened the first time. Clutching his spear tightly, the Armiger thrust at Do’Karth in quick motions, trying to heard him towards the swordsman who was preparing to advance again. Do’Karth made to knock the spear aside to bring his staff down into the spearman’s neck, who pulled his weapon back to block a hit that never came; instead, Do’Karth dropped to a knee and continued his swing into a low, 180 degree arc that the swordsman never saw coming behind his shield; his staff crashed behind the man’s knee, sweeping his feet.

With the swordsman on his back, Do’Karth stared down the spearman with narrowed eyes and ears back. Letting out a feral hiss, Do’Karth charged his foe, intent to knock the weapon aside and close the distance.