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[color=darkgray][h1]Saltrunner VS The Silver Eyes[/h1][/color]

With the lighting of ammunition from Arlen, the sea-faring vessels became locked in a deadly back and forth bout. For what felt like hours, the two crews traded glancing blows of cannonballs and failed attempts at boarding one another's decks. Tanithil's magic helped stop the Saltunner's main body from sustaining damage - as well as the damage control from Sirena who diligently looked after both ship and crew member. Arlen served as the primary source of "firepower" when it came to magical feats - having known his magic far longer than their other powerhouse, Ismael. But the two served to be a deadly combo together, proving that the human and elf duo would do more than simply "beat" the enemy. No, they would make sure to blind, sear, and blow them away with raw magical power.

Tanithil, with his never-ending bag of shadowy tricks, was able to keep the ranged threats at bay - blocking cannonballs and forcing boarding parties to slip and fall into the treacherous waters below. Those who slipped through the cracks had to deal with a fierce gang of scrappers led by Amisra - who was pissed to be bothered during her wounded state but also elated that she wouldn't need to be babysat by her friend. The group of physical fighters dealt with any on board threats swiftly - albeit with some minor casualties to some of the poor deckhands who weren't quite up to par on their swordsmanship.

As the fight waged on, there was a clear sign that the enemy would not let up, and Tanithil felt his magical reserves begin to run low as multiple strafing runs kept slamming into the side of the ship. The thin veil of shadow magic he was using to shield their boat began to crack - and there was a slowly turning tide in the favor of the Silver Eyes in this battle. But this is where the wild card of the group came to play ball. Ismael, the ever daring man, decided to join one of the Saltrunner's raiding parties against Tanithil's better judgement - and began to showcase just how destructive his element really was. In mere moments the enemy's ship began to go up in a blaze that could only be described as a miniaturized sun cascading down on the poor wooden frame of what was once a sea-worthy vessel. The raw power of the human showcasing his elemental magic became so intense that the raiding crew he was with had to bail early to avoid being scorched.

From the deck of their own ship, the crew had slowed their battle stations to a near halt as they watched the Silver Eyes frantically swarm to take care of this new urgent threat - but everything they threw at the man proved to be useless. Ranged attacks simply incinerated at the simplest flick of Ismael's wrist, and any close-combat fighters were swiftly dealt with thanks to the mans real world military expertise. It was a fine combination of tact, combat instinct, and magical power that impressed the Saltunner vapidly. And as the ship began to go down in literal flames the crew began to cheer and sing praises for Ismael who stood at the stern of the sinking ship ready to make his journey back to the Saltunner. Tanithil steered the ship towards the wreckage in an effort to meet the human partway. But his notions would soon be all for naught.

Once the dust began to settle, and the only noise that came from the Silver Eyes ship was crackling wood and the fizzing of flames hitting the water, Tanithil spied a single shadow moving from the flames. His eyes widened and his voice rang out in an attempt to warn the man of the unseen assailant, but to no avail. The shadow quickly revealed himself to be the burned, worn, and dying captain of the ship Ismael had almost single-handedly sank. A shimmer of light began to form in the mans hand as he slowly approached Ismael, seemingly too caught up in the moment to notice - until it was too late. A sudden realization from the man prompted Ismael to spin on his foot and fire one last blast of heat from his palm into the mans torso, but the sight the crew saw brought them all to an anguished chorus of screams and shouts. A blade of light coming right from the Captain's hand had pierced through Ismael's chest, stabbing through his heart.

The Captain stood with a smirk, having taken care of the ferocious thorn in his side. But Ismael was not one to go out so simply - he chuckled at the man while feeling a roaring inferno build within the very heart that stood skewered by the magical blade the enemy captain held. If Ismael was to fall here - it would be on his own terms. He made a gesture that few caught - ushering his newly found friends to back off. Tanithil, with regret in his heart, swiftly steered the ship away. As the others began to berate and shout their disagreements, an intense barrage of crackling pops filled their ears. It was as if an entire crate of fireworks began to go off all at once - as Ismael took every once of magical energy he had within him and localized it right into the very spot the sword had stabbed him. A raging inferno of fire unlike any the Saltrunner had ever seen shot up into the air and consumed Ismael, the Captain, and what remained of the enemy ship.

There was no body to recover, no loot to be plundered, no victory shanties to be sung. There was only the dreadful silence that followed for hours after the fight had ended. Tanithil let someone else steer the ship for awhile, and walked shelter himself in the Captain's Quarters for the remainder of the trip. As the days passed - more terrifying news of the death of the water human Zorra had reached the crew on its transponder. Another bit of sad news for the rebellion had driven the crew to a new low of morale - and the ship sailed its course until they finally found a small fishing village on the edge of the desert, where the ship had docked and sat patiently while Tanithil gathered his thoughts and planned for what exactly they would do next.

[h3][color=red]Rest in Peace, Ismael - You were a blazing beacon of hope that we so desperately needed. We hope your brightness can bring some security to those in another life. But for now...rest soldier, you've earned it.[/color][/h3]

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A full day had passed since the ship had docked - the eerie silence from the stand-in Captain had begun to put the crew on edge. Within the confines of his quarters, Tanithil had been self-reflecting - and dealing with emotional toll and responsibility of losing such an important person not only to himself, but to the entire fate of Avalia. His home depended on these chosen few to make it to their destination, and he had failed in his task. But it would seem that his role in the war was not over - a signal from King Vaeril himself had informed Tanithil of his new charge - a human with attunement to the element of wind by the name of Jun and his beast-kin companion Zion.

It would seem that his failure, while taxing to the cause, was not enough to dissuade the King from entrusting the Saltrunner once more. The dark elf sighed and took a moment to compose himself before nodding at the transmission - signaling his accepting of the request. Avali was still his home, and there was still a fight to win. 

Tanithil changed his clothes, washed his face, and came out of the doors with a slight squint in his eyes as the natural sun temporarily blinded him. He quickly strode to the helm of the ship and turned to face his likely concerned crew. 

[color=magenta]"Look, I know some of ya may be worried 'bout me health and how ... recent events may impact our journey. I am here to say that we won't be jus' throwin' in the towel after we get our arses kicked one time. We all know we are much too stubborn to give out after one failure. So I ask ye to have faith in me and to stick with me through this dark time. We's all gots a place to fight in this war - and I hope we can all do our part in securing the future of the country - or perhaps whatever loot we can find along the way if that is yer fancy."[/color] Tanithil delivered his last line with a smirk.

[color=magenta]"But! For now we will be taking on a new charge by the name of Jun - and his dear lion friend Zion. Jun is one of the "chosen few" we all 'ave heard so much about - and his proper talent is wind. See to it his initiation is smooth and make 'im feel at home. I hear he's a twitchy fella so don't try to scare him too much - ya hear?"[/color] His eyes glanced at some of the more playful bunch of the crew.

[color=magenta]"I'll 'ave a chat with the dockmaster and figure out our situation for keepin' the ship at port. Once that is settled then we our gonna have ourselves a treasure hunt! We came all the way out here to this fuckin' sandbox, we may as well finish what we started..."[/color] Tanithil sighed and began to step down towards the plank that led from the ship to the docks below. As he approached the two figures at the docks matching the description he was given - he smiled and put out a hand towards the pair in a form of a proper greeting.

[color=magenta]"Well well! Look who we have 'ere. Fancy to meet yas - Zion and Jun I presume?"[/color]

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