Penny — Roleplayer Guild

Leyla shrugged her shoulders. The Hutts were gangsters and anything involving them was bound to be dangerous in the extreme. Still when you lived on the edge dabbling in one of the crime syndicates bussiness was almost inevitable and far better it be casual cruelty of the Hutts than the organized malice of the Black Sun. What Bogga was asking could cost Jabba the Hutt alot of money and Jabba wasn't the sort to forget that kind of a loss.

"What is the harm in taking a look? If it dosent look doable when we get there we walk away," Leyla said in a low voice. Unfortunately Bogga had better hearing that she had given him credit for.

"Walking away is not an option girl," he boomed, sitting forward in obvious agitation. The emotion transferred to his entourage and Leyla began to wonder what her odds were of making it out of here if this turned into a shoot out. She ran through the old exercises and force herself to be clam, be focused.

"Well then we won't start walking, pay us for the job we have already done and we will be on our way, best of luck to whoever you find to do this job." The logic of that rocked Bogga back on his diaz. He glared at the pair of them for long moments. Leyla wondered if he was foolish enough to have them killed if they declined after suggesting the job in a throne room that was certainly lousy with spies both either professional or opportunists.

"Very well," the Hutt grumbled, reaching into a compartment beside his throne and tossing a pouch of credits to Cleo.

"But I warn you, opportunities like this are given but once smuggler."

Emmaline stared up at the sea wyrm in horror. The mark of the Goddess was completely dormant and the fleeting hope that she might be able to exert some power over the thing faded before it had even taken root. She started up at in horror as blood jetted from its mouth as its jaws shredded the unfortunate crew members. The cruel looking elf sitting atop the thing smiled triumphantly for a moment before a bloody red splash appeared on his forehead and he toppled from the saddle, his body executing a quater turn in the air before it struck the railing on the weather deck with a crack audible even over the roaring of the beast. As the limp body tumbled into the surging water the beast went berserk. Striking out like an avenging angel at the ship which had claimed the life of its master. Lines parted like twine and masts shattered at their steps, dragging the sails in the rigging down in a tangle of utter ruination. Emmaline wracked her brain for some spell or incantation that might help, but fighting sea dragons hadn't really been something she had prepared for. Perhaps in the Golden City she might have done something, but out here on the open sea she was powerless. 

"Amal we need to get the car..." she began before the dragon lunged at her, its vast fishy maw yawning. A falling spar fouled its strike but the sail attached to it caught Emmaline across the stomach and sent her sailing through the air. She grabbed at the bulwark and managed to hook her fingers onto it long enough to arrest her motion and leave her hanging over the side of the ship, staring down at the churning waters below. 

"Help!" she yelled, but before anyone could respond the tail of the beast smashed the railing that she clung to to kindling and she plummeted towards the ocean. Strong hands grabbed her wrists and brought her up so suddenly it felt as though her shoulders were being wrenched from her sockets. Daring to open her eyes she saw the engineer, Makem, leaning out of a porthole and gripping her with both hands.

"Hang on missy," he told her, eyes wide with terror and exertion. With a few heaves he pulled her up through the porthole and she fell on her rump in the engine room. Despite the fact that the coal which had been used to fuel the furnace had spilled from its bins, there seemed to be little damage down here, which was a good thing given the pressure that the steam in the boiler was under. Emmaline stared up at the ductwork and then glanced to the porthole. Leaping to her feet she picked up a shovel and hammered the duct free then began to chant the words of a spell.

"What are you..." Makem began and then cringed back in horror as he realised she was working a spell. The ductwork seemed to sag, growing almost organic as it twisted to face the port hole. It grew rigid as the spell finished and Emmaline began another one, this one a simple party trick, dozens of balls of golden light spewing from her finger tips and out of the port hole. There was a roar from the dragon that made her guts clench and then its maw appeared biting at the porthole. Emmaline threw the emergency release valve and there was a roar like a thousand kettles coming to a boil at once and a great gout of steam exploded into the creatures open mouth. There was a roar of pain, so loud that it literally drove Emmaline to her knees, covering her ears to save her hearing, and there was a reek like crabs being boiled before a feast. There followed a tremendous splash, as the monster, its mouth and throat blistered an burned, dived back into the deeps.

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