[sup][@Chicken][@Father Hank][@Frizan][@Poohead189][@Spoopy Scary][/sup] [hr] [center][i][b]Kyne's Tear 7th of Last Seed, 4E 205[/b][/i][/center] “Well good morning, Piper! You’re up early...the sun’s barely here.” “Um...I didn’t actually get any sleep…” “Hm? Why not, dear?” Little Piper paused. She’d told this story before, but mother and father never believed her. What would be the point in continuing? All she let out was a mumble. “Oh...did that monster keep you up again, sweetheart?” Her eyes widened as she perked her head up. Did they finally believe her!? “Uh-huh! I could see it, the closet door was cracked open. It stared at me all night...I didn’t wanna go to sleep. It would have gotten me!” Father looked over to Mother and smiled. “Well, let me see what I can do about that…” A few hours later, Caius returned from the markets with a bag. He called Piper over and opened it. Inside was a flashy sword(wooden, unbeknownst to his daughter) and a doll, about the size of her head. It looked like an elf wearing armor and holding a metal hammer, of child-safe size of course. It wore a silly smile to boot. “It’s dangerous to sleep alone...take these. I think they’ll keep you safe.” “What are they, daddy?” Piper asked curiously. She didn’t recognize the visage of the doll nor had she ever seen a sword quite like that one. It was glimmery and kind of short, with a bell hanging off of the pommel. “That is a specially crafted sword I requested from the Arcane University...it’s enchanted. Whenever a monster gets near it, it makes them cry and run away like babies! This, though…” he said, holding up the doll. “Is a...well, I suppose it would be called a charm. It was made to look like a prominent knight, from during the Oblivion Crisis. Orintur Graywatch...they say he was a holy warrior that followed Stendarr. If you keep it with you, I’m sure Orintur will help you scare off any monsters that try to bother you!” Later that night, as Piper went to bed, she kept the enchanted sword on her bedside table and had the doll snuggled with her beneath her blankets. Just like her father said, the doll and the sword seemed to have scared away the demon in her closet, as the telltale shadow within the doorframe was nowhere to be found. She slept soundly from then on afterwards… [b]BANG![/b] Jolting upright, Piper swerved wildly in her cot, holding her doll close to her chest. No, wait...it was just her pillow. She stared at the cotton-stuffed case with disappointment, and a little bit of sadness. What the hell was that sound, though? It was like an alchemical experiment gone bad. She heard some yelling, but couldn’t make out what the ruckus was- [b]CRASH![/b] “FUCKING FUCK!!!” Piper hit the floor with a hard thud as she was suddenly and violently thrown off her cot by something that she could only imagine had just impacted the ship. The [i]Tear[/i] rocked back and forth, making it difficult for Piper to get to her feet, but she managed it eventually. Spying her brother running about the hall next to her, she acted quickly. “Sagax! Get in here and help me with my gear!” [hr] Another balled-up piece of parchment smacked against the corner of Adaeze’s cabin. The Bosmer woman snatched another piece of parchment, frowning a little deeper as the ship rocked back and forth, side to side. She hated sailing. It wasn’t that it made her seasick, nor that it did anything to shake her nerves; no. No, sailing just complicated [i]everything[/i] she did. She took a deep breath, trying to remember the words she had started the last letter with. [i]Dear Father[/i] it was, yes. She took her time writing those words out, carefully waiting whenever the ship would sway. It was going to be perfect, this time, as all things she did. [i]A half-effort is no effort,[/i] she thought to herself, gently making calligraphic script on the page. And as she wrote the next few lines, as she scribed the details of her journey for her father, the words started to [i]finally[/i], this time, be without imperfecti- The ship rocked a little harder than she expected. Her quill pen raced across the parchment. Her work was ruined. Cursing, Adaeze slammed her hand down on the parchment and flung it behind her. Small drops of ink fell. She took a deep breath. “I hate boats,” she muttered, not that anyone heard. “Calm,” said the warrior to herself. She set her quill pen down and stood on up. “Find your center. Balance. You are above this, Adaeze. You are Ra Gada.” She strode across the room slowly, moving with the drunken dance of [i]Kyne’s Tear.[/i] She grabbed her sword, drew it from its scabbard, and stared at the blade - and at her reflection. She paused. With a shake of her head, she hefted the weapon up and fell into a fighting stance. “You are Ra Gada,” she repeated. The duelist recited in her head the principal maneuvers of the Ephemeral Feint. Her feet and sword moved together as she parried invisible foes, cut down phantom enemies. She - [b]BANG![/b] The whole vessel rocked. Adaeze stumbled forward, her knee hitting the floor [i]hard.[/i] She growled, then shouted, “Whose fault was that?!” at her door. She didn’t expect an answer, really, but she stopped speaking and listened. Someone else was shouting something… Something was very wrong. Adaeze rushed over to her trunk beside her hammock. She threw it open, grabbing the coat of chainmail inside, and the bracers and the greaves. The helmet, too - she’d need that, she was sure of it. Excitement washed over her. [i]A real fight! It’s about damned -[/i] And then the whole ship shook again with a [b]CRACK![/b] Adaeze’s head jerked back, then forward, smacking against her trunk. She clenched her fist and slammed it against the floor. Splinters bit her knuckles. “I better get to kill someone,” growled the Bosmer with venom. There was no time to nurse the bump on her head. She got her armor on as quick as she could. [hr] [i]“All hands on deck!”[/i] The upper deck was consumed by a maelstrom of complete and utter mayhem. Only minutes ago, the crew was fighting to navigate the [i]Tear[/i] through the relentless storm. Violent ocean waters was threatening to capsize the ship and the torrential downpour didn’t help matters by reducing visibility and soaking the crew to their bones, but that didn’t stop them from trying their damndest to fulfill their captain’s orders as they tried to keep her afloat while they looked for their safe refuge. Most of the crew and company were on deck, doing what they could to lend a hand, while some were below deck resting after being relieved (or without having worked at all in some cases). Though it would be fair to assume that only laborers and soldiers would be on deck trying to keep the ship afloat, that wasn’t necessarily the case. [i]”Heave!”[/i] The men shouted as the wrestled with the rigging. Every time the wind blew, it threatened to throw them off course if the sails weren’t adjusted. [i]”Ho!”[/i] “Put yer back into it, Wylendriel!” Indeed, even the priestess was doing her part. She was gritting her teeth as she put what little of her weight she could behind this game of tug-o-war. The goading of the sailor agitated her slightly, but she just used it as fuel to pull with all of her might. As for the conditions? She saw divine signs in the wind. Kynareth was either warning them of danger or she was angry. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was [i]her[/i] that she was angry with… but the actual weather itself seemed to never bother her anyway. “Daxainos! Tie the rope off at the mast! We’re gonna hold her here for now!” The Argonian hunter leaped out from below decks, the wind and water pummeling his muscled limbs. Using his claws to keep purchase on the soaked deck, he took another desperate jump and grabbed the rope hanging by the mast. Once he found his footing, he tied the rope, ending the knot with a near audible snap. His keen senses felt something was off for many minutes, but he was no sailor. He had only been on ships for a handful of times in his life. He preferred swimming to sailing. But he knew the outdoors, and even across the water, he felt a presence he couldn’t grasp with a surety. “By the Hist, be alert!” he roared, holding on for dear life to the mast and gripping the haft of his axe. “What in Oblivion is that!?” came a shout from Piper, voice reverberating inside in her helmet. She pointed up into the sky at what looked to be a massive, airborne ship. It had shot chains into the hull of the [i]Tear[/i], and what came down from them nearly made her turn heel and run: crab-like creatures with disgustingly human faces, the tips of their appendages covered in what could only be gold, their claws augmented by sharp metal edges. Then came the howling. It sounded like a massive wolf, but there was a bone-chilling, otherworldly sensation behind it. In a blur, a nearby deckhand was crushed by a massive black-haired creature. As it raised itself up, it bore the unmistakable features of a werewolf, just like in the old wives tales. This one, however, looked to be… decomposing. Its eyes were a misty white and bloody drool dibbled down its face. It was also looking directly at them. “Oh fuck…!” Was all Piper said as she began clambering to wrench her sword from its scabbard. Wylendriel pulled apart the curtain of her water soaked hair from her eyes and stared wide-eyed at the monsters as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing. As all the men and women on board starting drawing their weapons, and as the dreughs and the undead fell upon their victims, the priestess stood her ground. Blueish-purple colored magic in the form of mist began to coalesce around her right hand and eventually took shape in her palm as a mace. She tightened her grip around the shaft as she slowly took a step or two back, putting some precautionary distance between herself and the werewolf without taking her eyes off of it. She met its hungry, soulless eyes with a disgusted glare. Adaeze, too, found herself eager for the fight - until light hit the werebeast and she saw its rotting flesh. She swallowed hard. She did not fear defeat at the hands of the undead monstrosity, but a part of her was still worried of the consequences of striking the honored dead… ...but, no. [i]This one is Hircine’s,[/i] she told herself, [i]and needs no honor.[/i] It was justification enough. The warrior tensed as the beast roared. She focused. With two hands she took her blade; out of habit she fell into her dueling stance. [i]My blade is silver,[/i] she reminded herself. [i]Silver banishes evil.[/i] There was no more time for thought. Adaeze darted forward. With two hands she slashed downward with her blade; it flashed, and ghoulish blood flew. The dead beast roared, but Adaeze was fast, and her sword was lowered for a thrust. Thrust she did. Her blade stuck in the undead creature’s arm. She yanked. The blade did not come free. The gold-clad beast snarled, and Adaeze knew at that moment she’d made a [i]dire[/i] mistake. “Dipshit Bosmer…!” Piper growled under her breath. “Go!” Wylendriel said. “I have your back!” Her response was automatic. Piper took a quick step forward, grabbing the elf by the arm and throwing her backwards. Now between the beast and Adaeze, Piper was the target of its aggression. It made several swings at her, the Imperial barely managing to ward them off with her shield. When it would bite, she would smash its face with a shield-punch, though it didn’t seem to do as much as Piper would have hoped. With Niernen’s periodic fireball and her own ability to move swiftly in armor, Piper was able to dance with her foe for a little while. But suddenly the spells stopped, as did the greatly-needed respite they afforded her when the werewolf would briefly turn to their ranged foe. Blow after blow smacked into her shield with the force of several men, and Piper’s strength was faltering. Niernen had gone to assist her brother, leaving the others to deal with this monstrous abomination to all life. Barely able to speak through her own frantic breaths and clenched teeth, all Piper could muster was a rough “Need help!” as the undead laid into her. In one second, one measly moment of weakness, Piper’s shield was wrenched from her grasp and was summarily launched off of her feet by a ferocious swipe to her chest. Her armor may have saved her from serious injury, but the force of the blow and her landing left the woman with little strength to get to her feet again. Piper could hardly move, and her shield seemed so far away as the creature closed in… Then the creature reeled back with a snarl. Wylendriel stepped forward from behind Piper, her hand raised in the air and aglow with a brilliant white light, as though she had reached out and grasped a star from the night sky. It’s radiance glistened off of the water on her skin and on the deck, off of Piper’s armor, and perhaps blinded some the dreughs and seaman who were, up to this point, engulfed in darkness too thick for the lanterns to illuminate. As she stepped closer, the werewolf stepped away, growling and laying its ears flat as her repelling spell worked its magic on the undead. As the priestess reached Piper’s side, the strain in her breath could be heard. She used her foot to kick the warrior’s shield back to her side as she grunted, “By Y’ffre, this thing is strong… my spell isn’t going to last forever - hurry!” Taking advantage of the elf’s sudden...whatever the hell she was doing, Piper scrambled for her shield and picked herself back up. Whatever spell Wylendriel was using, it looked like it was working effectively, the werewolf backing up and taking a more defensive stance. While not all of her strength had returned to her, Piper figured she would be able to soak up a few more strikes...as long as the others kept up their efforts. She advanced slowly, bracing for incoming attacks and keeping her blade ready to retaliate. The beast snarled and bared its teeth, but its fear, if one could believe an undead could feel fear, was still evident. The Imperial took a few quick jabs at it, but it was quick to jump out of the way. While she wanted to go on the offensive, Piper knew she didn’t have the strength left to really defend herself if she made herself a target again, let alone go toe-to-toe with the beast with her weapon. “If someone would stick this ugly motherfucker with some steel, that’d be real great!” Someone heard that call to action. Adaeze burst out from the small crowd of warriors once again, slashing at the werewolf with her blade, taking advantage of the undead creature’s fear of the light-wielding chaplain. This time she kept her distance. Her cuts were quick: one, two, three in quick succession. Silver tore through the back of the monster’s legs. The werebeast snarled and swung about to swipe at Adaeze, but she ducked low and danced on away. It was wounded, and distracted at that. The Hammerfell warrior bolted for the cover her companions provided. She didn’t intend on dying [i]that[/i] easily. Daixanos blocked a blow from the Dreugh he battled, and struck it in the center with the flat of his axe. The monster was stunned, and the powerful Argonian used the time to charge, shoving the dazed opponent off the boat and into the rushing current. He wasted no time in whipping about, his combat reflexes honed into a heightened sense of awareness. As Adaeze fell back, the line of the companions blocked the beast’s field of vision as the Hunter leaped into the fray, maw bared and axe firmly in a two handed grip. Dax waded in, blocking a clawed swipe from the beast before twirling beneath a wild slash, and burying his axe into the creature’s chest with a savage riposte that caused the werewolf’s spine to buckle. Daixanos pressed forward, his biceps enlarging as he pressed the blade in deeper. The rain washing over the deadly ranger only added to the savage appearance of the two bestial figures locked in combat. And so they danced, a beast against several armed men and women, still holding its own through its sheer brutal strength and swiftness. Piper, shamefully, hung back and took only a scarce few more blows. The warrior-elf and Redguard fared much better than she did, and the lizard looked to be overcome by a savage desire to rip and tear the werewolf’s guts. Wylendriel’s spell was fading quickly, but its effect on the monster was still noticeable; it did not dare charge them all head-on. Hopefully the boarding party would find a way to stop the rampaging beast, because it seemed impossible for the defenders to kill it themselves.