It took Tsleeixth a moment to notice the fact that the ship had been under attack, having attributed the shouts that he had heard to the inclement weather that had begun the past night. What first tipped him off that something was wrong was the sound of a loud explosion that reverberated through the air, “What the fuck.” He muttered instinctively. Surprise soon gave way to finely-honed instincts and Tsleeixth began to armor up, which was when the second clue that something was out of the ordinary appeared before him  was the claw-tipped chains that penetrated the lower deck as he was halfway through putting on his armor. Quickening his pace, Tsleeixth quickly put on the rest of his armor and grabbed the scabbard that held his falmer sword before he hurried towards the upper deck. 

Once he arrived there what he saw robbed him of breath, a flying ship was the source of the chains that had penetrated the lower deck of the [i]Kyne’s Tears[/i]. Along with this there several crustacean- like creatures with gold prosthetics, which his mind took a few seconds to recognize as land dreughs, were quickly dropping from the airship down into the deck of the [i]Tear[/i]. However, all of this couldn’t have prepared him for what was to come next as an undead werewolf, fitted with the same gold prosthetics as the dreughs, jumped into the deck as well. There was something familiar about the undead beast but the advanced stage of decomposition in which the werewolf was, couple with the golden prosthetics, meant that it took Tsleeixth a few seconds to recognize the undead monstrosity as Relmyna Vibrato, one time member of the company. He remembered the discussion that had surrounded what to do with the Dunmer woman, whether to exile or kill her outright, and how, in the end, they had decided to imprison her like some beast.

He felt a pang of guilt, wondering if this wasn’t some sort of retribution for their callous treatment of someone who had been part of the group but he quickly moved past those thoughts. Relmyna’s present state wasn’t some sort of divine retribution against the group, merely the work of the Kamal that had butchered her during the Windhelm uprising. Hot rage surged in his mind as more memories from the siege of Windhelm returned to his mind; their retreat from the besieged city and their flight towards Nightgate Inn. The rage quickly subsided as he remembered the panic that had taken hold of his heart when the Kamal forces sent from the city caught up to them but any further thoughts were interrupted when Hargjorn urged everyone to take the fight towards whoever, or whatever, was hiding in the airship currently hovering aboard the [i]Tear[/i] by climbing the chains that held the ship in place. 

Rage surged through him once again, both towards the enemy and towards himself for his past cowardice and as Tsleeixth gripped the handle of his sheathed sword he vowed to himself never to fall prey to that blind fear again; to fight until his dying breath against the Akaviri invaders and this mysterious new foe. “Victory or Sovngarde!” The Argonian shouted as he unsheathed his sword and began making his way towards one of the chains that connected the [i]Tear[/i] to the mysterious airship. He had to deflect a couple of attacks from the dreughs but, in no time, Tsleeixth was in front of one of the chains. 

Quickly grabbing ahold of the chain, the Argonian spellsword began climbing his way towards the airship. The metal links of the chain were slippery from the crashing waves, slowing the progress of the Argonian but he, nonetheless, made his way upwards slowly but surely. Problems began to rise when the chains started rattling, one of the metal links hitting Tsleeixth on his bum knee; pain quickly began to spread and, instinctively, Tsleeixth let go of the chain with one hand to try and reach for his knee. That mistake nearly caused him to fail in his endeavor, as the slippery nature of the chains, coupled with their rattling, meant that he almost fell due to holding on with only one hand.

Fortunately he managed to hold on and continued with his ascent, but the pain spreading through his knee was the least of his problems as a growing stiffness began to spread through his leg which caused him to misstep and almost lose his equilibrium. The stiffness, coupled with the pain, meant that such accidents repeated once or twice more before Tsleeixth finally reached the airship proper, his left leg feeling as if it was on fire due to the strain that he had put it through. Panting tiredly, Tsleeixth took a second to catch his breath and massage his bum knee in an effort to lessen the pain; he knew that it was impossible to make the pain go away entirely, but he needed to lessen is as much as possible if he wanted to be an effective combatant when fighting inevitably broke out within the airship. 

Once he was done recuperating, Tsleeixth unsheathed his sword and took a moment to scan his surrounding. It quickly became apparent that, through some miracle, he had been the first to get onto the airship proper, probably because he had followed Hargjorn’s call without a second of hesitation. Knowing that heading into the airship alone was suicide, Tsleeixth remained in place, ready for combat, and waited for other members of the company to join him for, while he couldn’t do much alone, he could at least secure a safe zone for the others to climb into the airship.