[center][img]http://orig01.deviantart.net/49da/f/2016/264/0/8/spawnzi_by_fenixking13-daig4go.png[/img][/center]
[center]Valion[/center]


Valion sat in the cargo hold, legs crossed and hands to either side. His bladed staff rested across his legs as the monk focused on his breathing. Though Tyr now led the expedition and the ship sailed smooth, it was always a matter of time before things went south. Events unfolding around him involving former heroes and a well known Reaver drew trouble to it. Dragons found sleep harder to find when a group like this was heard to be roaming the world. Valion hoped the trip would be uneventful.
The sound of screams, the drizzle of blood, and the song of steel against steel was his awakening from the trance. The passage of time was skewed in these moments, making time simply melt away until he was called back to the present. Needing neither food nor water meant Valion could focus on his body entirely, preserving himself only on what he had eaten since last he walked the waking world.

[color=aba000][i]Pirates perhaps?[/i][/color]

Rising to his feet, staff loosely in one hand, the monk made his way in eerie silence to the door leading away from where he slept. Before he could grasp the handle the door seemed to swing open of its own accord to reveal two men, both about to charge in. No survivors, check every corner, some such nonsense. Neither of them were of particularly noteworthy looks. Blades held in white knuckled grips, eyes focused but sweating from the brow. These two meant business but had lost their nerve somehow.

Almost like a gentle breeze whistling past them he struck. His open palm slapped at one assailants neck, almost a weak blow, but the result was immediate as the resounding crack echoed out the dead pirates body, neck snapped clean and windpipe crushed. The next attack took the remaining privateer as he stared at his companion in confusion. Index and middle finger extended, Valion jabbed the mans chest to bury both fingers deep into the flesh and bone below. Through his gloves he felt the final beat on this poor souls heart before he withdrew his hand. Not a drop of blood spilled on his pristine robes. 
Advancing through the underbelly of the ship was almost too easy. Only 3 opponents tried to stop his approach to the main stairway leading to the upper deck, from the sounds of it where the fighting was thickest. One mans boarding axe had failed to be swung even once before the monks palm crushed his forehead like rotten wood, another was kicked in the chest and crumbled to the floor in a heap of shattered bone. The last man brandished a makeshift shield and a long sword and had tried to hold off Valions approach by using a doorway to bottleneck him.
The wind whistled through this unfortunate soul. Almost peacefully the mans grip on sword and shield faltered with a clatter as they fell from his limp hands, followed closely by the rest of this would be assailant. Valion had torn out this mans energy and cast it to the stale air around them. There was no pain. Only the sensation of drowsiness.