[center][b][i]Smuggler's Cove

Last Seed 7, 4E 205
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The seas were hellish, a squall of miserable weather that might as well have been its own plane of Oblivion. While the ship rocked in the choppy waters, relatively protected by the cove that even the experienced sailors deemed necessary to save the ship from taking on water, or hitting a rock or reef, or a dozen other things that could possibly go wrong, the rain was torrential and the visibility was virtually non-existent thanks to the perpetual mist that the cove offered. In short, Do’Karth was miserable, and any progress he’d made since the ill-fated mission to rescue the mages at the College of Winterhold which saw their last ship sink and several of the rescued mages drowned by their own stupidity had been washed away after the third or forth large wave had lurched the boat the night before. The Khajiit felt certain that this ship was doomed, as well. As a rule, the catfolk of Elsweyr did not appreciate the sea and the ocean like other races did, and Do’Karth was one of the unlucky ones to get a full appreciation for why that was. And so, eating only a meager portion of the rations to sustain himself, but not enough to vomit up if the motion became too much for him to handle, Do’Karth had found a quiet spot near the stairwell to kneel in prayer to S’rendarr, the amulet clutched within his hands. Perhaps, if he was exceedingly lucky, the next time he’d be off to boat would be in dry port. He did not hold his breath for such fortune.

“Can’t sleep?” Sevine whispered, leaning against a wooden support beam just a foot away. 

While she found the rain comforting to listen too, she still had yet to find her sea legs. And as was expected, the vicious swinging of her hammock did not let her sleep, despite how much she may have needed it.

“If one were to sleep in this, they do not have much to live for.” Do’Karth offered a weak, unsteady smile. “Do’Karth, however, has found many reasons to stick around.” He gestured towards where some of the crew were snoring loudly amongst the hammocks. “We should prod them, make sure they aren’t Dremora. That is not natural.”

She smiled at his words, gladdened to know that she did not suffer alone. “I find helping to think ahead, of the future, to be calming, than to dwell on dire circumstances.” She knelt beside him, rubbing his back with tenderness.

“I wish I knew a cure for this seasickness. I would suggest fresh air… but the storm may just as well prove to be counter effective.” 

A quiet chuckle escaped from Do’Karth’s lips. “At least here it is dry. This one has discovered eating as little as possible proves to be an excellent deterrent against sickness, and it gives one something to look forward to… the future you have spoken of. Do’Karth would like a steak, and a nice tropical beach…” he trailed off, suddenly alert to something. “What is-”

A loud boom rang through the hull of the ship, causing it to lurch forward and rock the contents, and the passengers, like the ship had run aground. Do’Karth had to catch himself from losing his balance, and not for the first time, he hated feeling validated for worrying. “This one despises sailing. Has he ever mentioned that?” he joked, trying to keep his cool. He quickly grounded himself, bringing his anxiety to the moment and standing upright, preparing to head topside to see what had happened, and to get away from any impending floodwater. As he stood, several loud bangs sounded over head, and there were a series of spikes through the ceiling above. “That was not what Do’Karth expected.” he murmured to Sevine, wondering what exactly he was looking at.

She could feel the blood drain away from her fingertips, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” She had slept in her armor again, a long habit she couldn’t break,but she returned to the hammock where she had deposited her Chitin shield and newly acquired axe, thanks to Do’Karth, and slid them into place.

Returning to his side, she pointed, “Let’s go have a look.”

Joining others who were scrambling to their feet and out to the deck, the duo made their way topside, and thanks to it being early morning, it was still quite dark outside. However, what was unmistakable was that they were under attack. What didn’t make much sense was how there was a ship up in the sky that had anchored itself to the [I]Kyne’s Tear[/I] deck with a series of thick chains. The deck was awash with a manner of creatures, Chaurus-like Dreughs with clicking mandibles and arms that set themselves upon any they could reach, and most alarmingly, a very decomposed and horrific werewolf that had been augmented with golden claws and teeth. It didn’t seem to slow down its ferocity as it tore into the crew. Considering all Do’Karth had seen the past several weeks, he found himself alarmingly desensitized to the visceral carnage unfolding before him.  

Do’Karth held his staff at the ready, and he began to eye the chains. “So, we can rule Snow Demons out, Do’Karth thinks. Perhaps this one should go speak with their captain about the behaviour of their passengers.” 

Sevine was mortified at the idea, but she knew that she couldn’t stop him, “Right. Just… be safe. And come back to me.” She pulled him into a tight embrace, crushing him against her as if it were the last time she’d ever see him again, and kissed him once.

Returning the kiss, grabbed the back of Sevine’s head and pulled their foreheads together. “Do’Karth will return, he promises. He will avoid the temptation to jump to save a few moments on the return trip.” he teased, releasing her and making a quick judgement of how he could make his way to the chain.

“Go.” She said, pulling away from him, one hand already drawing out her axe.

“Fight well, Sevine. Do’Karth would wish you luck, but he knows better than to worry about you with an axe in your hand. This one pities these creatures… just don’t get too close to the rotting one.” The Khajiit said, taking off in a sprint, his wrapped feet treading almost silently across the deck save for the faintest of splashes from the accumulated water. He closed in on the closest chain, ignoring the battle around him. One of the Dreughs tried to head him off, but Do’Karth’s momentum could not be stopped; he leapt into a slide, slipping between the four legs of the creature and as he passed, he caught it in one of the legs with his staff, using the sudden jerk against his movement as he grabbed on with both hands and he found his footing quickly in one swift motion as the crab-like beast tripped hard against the deck. He had no time to fight it, so he continued on his way, parrying an attempted grab from another as he neared the chain, the creature shrieked at him- what a wretched sound- and Do’Karth pulled back, bringing the end of his staff vertically between his torso and the abdomen of the Dreugh, striking it where its chin would be with a heavy blow, causing it to shriek louder and stagger back. As it looked down at him again, it quickly found itself smashed on the side of the head with the steel cap of Do’Karth’s quarterstaff, knocking it hard to the deck. He did not bother to see if he’d knocked it out, and instead found purchase on the metal rings that ascended into the sky above. 

With one hand before the other, and using his staff to help anchor himself as he climbed as the elements battered him through his relatively thin budi that was already soaked through, the Khajiit began to ascend the chain, feeling thankful it was much sturdier than the rotted out railings in the ice at the College of Winterhold. Within a few steady pulls, Do’Karth was well above where any of the beasts could have reached him, and with sure purchase on the textured surfaces of the links despite the rain, Do’Karth scaled the chain with purpose. He would soon be at the top and facing whatever waited for him there. Those below depending on his actions, and he would not fail them.

At least he wasn’t on the ship anymore. 

Awful singing came from  above, and squinting through the rain and mist Do’Karth was certain that the voice was Sadri. Not sparing more than a few moments to ponder if the distraught Dunmer from earlier was leading the charge against the enemy vessel, Do’Karth continued climbing, the steel in his hands and on his feet feeling a might bit too uncomfortable for his liking. At least it wasn’t ice. 

After a few more minutes of scaling the chain, Do’Karth’s hands found purchase on wood, and it became a relatively simple matter to use the new holds to pull himself up over the gunwale of the airship and onto the deck, where he landed in a crouch, staff before him at the ready.

Sadri and Tsleeixth were already abroad, looking for the imminent danger. “Friends, Do’Karth is pleased he did not make this journey alone.” He announced good-naturedly, surveying the ship and finding… nothing. “Shall we place bets the dead werewolf took out a loan or extorted this vessel for its needs, or shall we continue to look for its master?” he asked, noticing something even more peculiar about the already extremely peculiar airship. “...Why is there so much gold?” he asked, offering his companions a quizzical glance.