[hr][hr][center][img]https://s9.postimg.org/pmms6jjdb/e97603c96b0463c7cd7af20a4ccf9add.png[/img][hr][img]https://s9.postimg.org/cih7tx473/gallion-ships-animated-gif.gif[/img][hr][@Nallore][@BlueSky44][@FantasyChic][@mnkee][hr][h3][color=#0099cc][b]The Caribbean: April 9th, 1719 - 4:51 PM Local Time[/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr][center][h1][color=#0099cc]Harlianne James[/color][/h1][img]https://s9.postimg.org/4cz5vtl3z/giphy.gif[/img][hr][color=#0099cc][b]Location[/b][/color]: Port of Tortuga Docks[/center][hr][hr]	According to legend, pirates are hardly the most fearsome creatures to roam the seas. There are witches, awaiting to ensnare your mind and befuddle your senses. If you ask the Greeks, there are sirens, luring you to your ultimate death with their beauty and grace. And those sailors, they swear that Davy Jones is constantly prowling the waters, looking for souls to join his crew of the damned. Yet there is another horror that lurks in these waters, one associated with the Devil's Triangle. 

[center][img]https://s13.postimg.org/me7z0wpnr/giphy.gif[/img][/center]

	[i]The kraken.[/i] Many thought that it was responsible for the deaths in the Devil's Triangle. It preys on ships, tearing them apart and devouring alive anyone (un)fortunate enough to not drown in the process. Yet it is silly to imagine that the kraken would confine itself to the Bermuda Triangle. Just as the flask is now at Tortuga, so is the kraken. 

	[color=#0099cc]"What in the name of Davy Jones is this nonsense?!" [/color]Harlianne exclaimed. The sailors in front of her that were jumping overboard were rapidly vanishing, as if something was sucking them down to the bottom of the ocean. It was only as she felt a slimy tentacle curl around her leg that she understood - the kraken.

	Meanwhile, on the deck of the Styx, Alisanne stared disapprovingly down into the water. It was typical of the English - they were drowning, as far as she was concerned. The French-English prejudice was strong in her mind, even if she was using the resources of the English navy. As far as she was concerned, they were no more than a means to an end. "Qu'est-ce qui passe?" Alisanne muttered underneath her breath. 

	The tentacles then shot out from the water, wrapping themselves around the Styx, before tightening. The wood began to give slightly, and then, all at once as the ship was torn in two. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#cc6699]Édouard Riviere[/color] & [color=f7976a]Aravis Zacharia[/color][/h1][img]https://s9.postimg.org/56gv93pdr/edara.gif[/img][hr][color=#cc6699][b]Location[/b][/color]: the Misty Mire - Port of Tortuga[/center][hr][hr]	Aravis' eyes widened as she saw the bodies appearing all around them. There was no doubt in her mind that Millicent was inhabited by the being from the stories of the Cursed Flask. Yet if that was the case, then the English navy was the least of their troubles. There was something terrible happening in the Caribbean, and she had to assume its source was the flask still clutched in Millicent's hand. Would destroying it kill the goddess? Or would it only set Hecate free, allowing her to kill as she pleased? 

	[color=f7976a]"Can you restore yourself?"[/color] Aravis asked, though her question answered itself. It wasn't enough for the bodies to be there - more magic had to be done in order for everyone to return to their forms. Jean Waverly, the minder of Alisanne Riviere, looked down at her own body with a funny smile on her face. 

	"I suppose you conveniently forgot a restorative ritual," Jean pointed out. She had worked for Crypts long enough to pick up a trick or two. "Without that, these bodies will rot and such a magical expense would have been for nothing." Yet the magic could not be undone. The curse had been cast - and it resulted in the kraken appearing. Millicent brought back bodies from the Bermuda Triangle, yet she summoned the kraken as well. All magic has a price. 

	[color=f7976a]"Please help them,"[/color] Aravis then said, as she looked towards Millicent. She didn't know if she was talking to the woman or the goddess. Édouard, of course, was nudging his own body with his toe with amusement. It seemed to be keeping him entertained, for the moment.