[b]Southern Coast of Naqah[/b]

The fact that the strange new small-lings tried to talk to him was not lost upon the Nephilim. Looking around at his own ship, now no longer resembling what it once was, he realised that no amount of struggle would never bring his crew back, nor restore his ship to its former glory. What appears to be the leader of these small foreigners, from what he could gather from his gestures - his words meant nothing to him - was that he wanted his weapon down. The Nephilim could not tell what their intentions were after he did. Seeing himself as a failure to his crew, however, he was beginning to care less.

Shifting his massive man-sized ballista from target to target, his arms spasming increasingly as time passed, he eventually threw it aside, and pulling the man-sized bolt out and tossing it aside nonchalantly, the Nephilim said in Daemonrexa, "Do what you want with me. I care no more," his words rough and loud. After that, he spat a huge glob of saliva and blood onto the corpse of a human pirate he had slaughtered in battle. At the very least, the Nephilim could take comfort in the number of humans he killed - he counted 33 of them. He chuckled at the thought as he awaited his fate.

The moment the guard's wet cloth touched her wound, the Succubus Follower howled in pain as she latched onto the guard, her grip weak. She did not let go when the ordeal was over. "Please. Don't leave me." She said in the Naqah's language, remembering the words she used in one of her poems. When the bottle of water was given to her, she tried to bring it to her lips, but found it to be too heavy, especially when the pain that was spreading throughout her entire body had worsened. Bit by bit, her vision began to blur. She dropped the bottle and fell unconscious.

Deducing that the Naqah was friendly, the imp puts aside his short spear obediently and took the woman guard's hand, his own shaking from shock, and tried to stand up on his hooves, nearly falling from his knees buckling, but succeeding in the end. A mean stab wound on his thigh impeded his efforts to walk properly, but slowly, step by step, he came over to the woman.

[b]South-East of Naqah, in Deep Waters[/b]

"There! I see it!" An imp pointed at a bit of flotsam on the water, off a side of the command ship. As the massive galley got closer to the flotsam, the crowd of soldiers that were gathering saw what was written on the largest piece of wood: "Kha-Selem". The name of the lost ship. "We're getting close, I know it! The evidences are there!"

Then a human was found amongst the floating debris. When he was pulled up, he was questioned, and freedom was promised to the pirate if he cooperated. Literally smelling an escape from his predicament, the human readily betrayed his captain's plans: That the feigned attack on the 5th Naval Legion was a ruse to draw a ship or two away, and with even more hiding in the fog, they would take it captive and demand ransom for it, only, they had no plans to release the captured ship but to enslave and possibly sell its occupants. The captain had planned to keep a few Daemonrexa women captives for his own use. The pirate captain had also promised use of his Daemonrexa 'wenches' to his crew should they do well in battle.

Upon hearing this, the Warmaster, a formidable Nephilim that was a head taller than even the other Nephilims on board, also captain of the command ship, drew his knife, which was about the length of a human's long sword but wider, and stabbed him in the chest, the sheer force of the strike breaking the body of the human. "Throw that *filth* overboard. By Saten's name, I doubt even the fishes would feed off his carcass! I want five soldiers to clean up his disgusting blood here!"

"We will continue sailing in this direction!" The captain of the ship, a Nephilim, ordered, and everyone scampered back to their posts. Should the oarsmen and wind hold true, the captain made an educated guess that they could reach their missing ship within a few day's time.