Sea Wolves (Savage) [M]

[Kingfisher]

The Valiant was losing ground.  The other vessel had come upon her during the night and the smaller craft seemed to be limping, holds overladen with contraband.  They had been raiding the merchant lanes, seizing goods heading north along the coast.  Now they were at risk of losing more than just a payday.

The captain knew that the ship...his ship could go faster.  He stood on the aft castle, glaring at pursuing vessel, slapping the flat of his falchion against his thigh.  He knew the large vessel would catch them, but he refused to simply blame this fact on his own ships lack of sails.  No, he knew who was really to blame.  It was her.  She had intentionally sabotaged their course, somehow knowing they would run into this overwhelming adversary...

The subject of his ire was bound to the desk in the captain's desk below deck.  She was malnourished and bruised, baring the markings of her captivity.  Her pale red hair spilled into her face and around her neck, hiding many of her features and she did not have the luxury of moving her hands to clear her eyes.  The crew had sought to break her in nearly a hundred different ways, but the humiliated young lady stared out the rear ports of the captain's quarters, listening to the cacophony of panicked sailors moving around outside.

Leenane knew what was coming and could not help but smile.  Whatever came of this; whatever fate befell her, it had to be better than this...

@SanctifiedSavage @Kadakism ?

[SanctifiedSavage]

The Red Jewel did not often make port, since the ship was large enough to hold quite a bit of contraband and supplies. Rather than refill in a city, where the partially undead crew might draw unwanted attention, the Red Jewel much preferred to pilfer their supplies from other ships.

Merchant, pirate, or otherwise.

Vailea stood on the upper deck, watching as they steadily gained on the other ship. She had nothing but time. The Red Jewel was like a monster, gliding across the surface of the ocean and steadily gaining. Hungry and eager.

Vailea was quite eager. A new ship meant new toys, new food and loot. The undying crew was likewise eager for new bodies, whether for food or play, she didn't particularly care either. The lich captain didn't judge her crew on their manner of sport or play – she was certainly one of the odd taste now and then.

When it came to chasing down other ships, though, Vailea's job was easy. Wait, and be ready. Her time would come when they were closer. When she could cross, on the other deck, and really have some fun.

@Kingfisher

[Kingfisher]

Without breaking his gaze, Captain Hal shouted, "All hands, prepare for battle!"  At his words, those not manning other stations began to retrieve weapons; axes, maces and sabers; slings and bows; pikes and glaives.  The assembly was haphazard but they moved quickly enough.

By now the pursuer was within spitting distance and Hal was breaking into a cold sweat.  From a distance he had not seen it; could not make the men standing at the enemy forecastle.  Now though, he realized the bulk of the force stood stock still, lifeless eyes staring into nothing.  Dead.  By know, death magic was largely unknown in the world, taboo in most lands.  All that was left was stories of shambling cadavers, heedless of fear or pain.

The captain's second was shaking, moments away from breaking.  Hal turned; he shared that same fear but was better able to hide it.  Grabbing the trembling man by the neck, the captain shouted in his face; "Are you a man or a rat?"  But the man's eyes had glazed over.  Hal simply cut him down as an example, throwing the body overboard.  Gesturing with his bloodstained sword, he addressed his other men.  "This crew has no use for cowards!  All who flee will share his fate!"

Leenane saw the body plummet past a port hole, listening to the Captain's tirade.  The fool thought that more feat would bolster his men's resolve.  That was fine; the more panicked her captors were, the easier it would be for the attackers to kill them.  Still, the young woman took in her shackles and decided to get to work freeing herself, even as the assailing prow of the other vessel dug into the Valiant's side.  The battle had begun...The Red Jewel had the initiative.

[Kadakism]

The chase wasn't the fun part, but it certainly got him worked up. Like foreplay. Burton couldn't deny though that he was ready to get onto the deck of that ship and start kicking teeth in. He shouted orders as he ran across the deck, weaving around the dead and living crew alike as he headed for the Red Jewel's bow.

One thing his abilities had afforded him after months of practice was a good judge of distance and direction. Taking a leap off the bow, sword and dagger in hand, he vanished from sight. If anyone happened to have eyes as good as a hawk's they would see him as he appeared in the air, tiny as a mouse. And the little hops he made, vanishing and reappearing in the air until he reached the deck of the Valiant. It was time to sow a little chaos before the battle really began.

From his minuscule position, he quite liked Captain Hal's initiative. Grabbing at a nearby sailor's bootstraps, he used his surprisingly undiminished strength to send the man toppling over the railing into the waters below. Then the captain yelled about cowards and some other nonsense. Whoops, Burton had a bit of a laugh as he realized he may have jumped to conclusions too fast. Oh well. There were more sailors to drown.

[SanctifiedSavage]

When things died around Vailea, it was like someone sighed down her back. A breath of cold, a chill. Noticeable, because she knew what to look for. Faint, because it was far away. They hadn't even reached the other ship yet and someone had lost their life? Interesting.

Vailiea chewed on an unlit cigar and waved a hand, indicating they could let a few cursory fireballs fly. Take out the sails, if they hit. Slow the vessel further, terrify the crew. They didn't need the ship, she wanted the bodies. The extras were, well, extra.

She smiled a little when Burton dashed his way across. That'd further slow them. So, by the time the Red Jewel was in boarding distance, the Valiant was well and truly in chaos. Vailea rolled her shoulders and pushed, encouraging her undead minions to go. Time to really get involved, now.

The living and sentient undead crew would likewise get involved, but now Vailea could cross herself. She was largely left alone – everyone was far more concerned about skeletons with swords and zombies hungry for flesh than a slender woman in a halter top and sheathed sword. She knelt next to a fallen sailor, pushed her necromancy into him, and moved onto the next. No reason to let good bodies go to waste in the middle of a fight, right?

Vailea idly expected Burton to watch her back while she wandered the deck.

@Kingfisher @Kadakism

[Kingfisher]

Leenane simply ignored the chaos as it erupted above deck.  It was a struggle enough to pry the post of the captain's bed free without being distracted but eventually, the joint gave out and she was able to slide the chain of her manacles through the gap.  Work had not been quiet as the wood began to splinter but she was lucky; most of her former crew was occupied.

At the same time, Captain Hal was left to watch as the dead washed through his own crew like a wave.  Something small and fae-like was hurling his men into the sea as the woman he knew was the captain raised those that fell under steel blades.  His only chance was to get to her; The Red Jewel had the advantage of numbers.

"Her," the captain cried.  He had a vantage from the aft-castle, could see the wretched woman as she wove her death magic into his men, replacing her own monsters as they fell.  His marines descended the stairs, keeping in tight formation as they kept the undead at bay.  They aimed to do their captain's orders, intent on ending the threat as quickly as possible, if not out of loyalty, then in the interest of their own survival as they pressed into the mass.  Hal remained in the rear, commanding half his crew, even as the other half was driven to the forecastle where it would collapse in an instant.

@Kadakism @SanctifiedSavage

[Kadakism]

Sailor after sailor fell to Burton's blade, a flashing needle finding purchase between vertebrae and severing tendons with gleeful precision. Some of the men weren't entirely dead, but they surly wished that they were when the captain's magic began working on them. It was a sight to see, even though he should have been getting used to it.

Men coming down the stairs from the rear of the ship towards her, the enemy captain leading from the back like a coward. That wouldn't do, not in the least. With a short teleporting hop and a roll, Burton returned to his full size in between the sailors and Vailiea. He offered a mocking bow to the men, his blood soaked sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.

He called out, mostly talking to the men but letting his voice carry loud enough for Hal to hear. "Captain's a bit busy, ya quiverin' cunts. Don't fret though, I'll keep ya right entertained." He adopted a loose fencing stance, unwilling to let any of the sailors get close to Vailiea.

@SanctifiedSavage @Kingfisher

[SanctifiedSavage]

At first, Vailea was rather ignored. A small, fleshy body in a fight between the living in the dead. That surely put her on the side of the living, at a quick glance. But the Captain's quick eye of the battle caught her – either because he knew who she was or what to look for, or both – and her importance to the fight became more evident.

Vailea was a decent enough swordsmen, if pressed, but she didn't really want to draw her blade if she didn't have to. Rather, she waved her hand and undead flanked Burton. Just incase. Less support and more a fleshy wall in case any sailors got the idea to throw things her way. Any spell caster's bane was a physical projectile, especially since she didn't have a way to deal with it. It wouldn't kill her, but it'd be a huge inconvenience.

She was in the midst of taking steps back when boards cracked beneath her feet and she crashed through the splintered deck – the integrity of it compromised by the assault of the Red Jewel during the chase. It dumped her unceremoniously in the hull of the ship, amongst the supplies and sailor's rooms. Most of which had likewise been broken and busted open. Thankfully, no wood had speared her on the way down.

@Kingfisher @Kadakism

[Kingfisher]

Captain Hal watched from the overlook has the enemy captain spilled through the crumbling deck as a handful of planks inexplicably gave way.  It seemed to have little effect on the undead in any meaningful way as the two forces continue to skirmish.  Still, it offered a small reprieve as she no longer had the power to turn his own dead against him (he assumed), though it would be a brief advantage given she had fallen mere feet from the central ladder.

Leenane saw the press of bodies bow the cabin hatch, giving her pause to find a better solution.  She thought it an unnecessary risk entering the melee via the front door and portholes were too smell to reach the outer hull.  Instead, she simply ransacked the room, looking for a knife or some sort of weapon.

Hal's orders were growing louder and more aggressive; bowmen were shooting from the poop deck to hamper the encroaching dead.  Tides in battle could ebb and flow, and now it ebbed in Hal's favor with the absence of the enemy leader as flailing axes and hammers took down the creatures, men lancing into the formation, breaking things down from the inside out.  The captain of the Valiant dared to hope for a chance at victory...

@Kadakism @SanctifiedSavage

[Kadakism]

"Fuck my ass," Burton said with an audible groan of annoyance as the Captain fell through the deck of the ship and went plummeting down to some unknown fate. He was pretty sure she was still kicking down there. He hoped so, at least. No finer an ass on the Red Jewel than hers.

He'd have to check on her later though. Hal had found his balls and was starting to turn the tide against the undead. And Burton simply couldn't have that. Pointing the tip of his blade at the men advancing upon himself and his zombified henchmen, Burton gave a wry smirk and a wink before vanishing.

He appeared behind the group, kicking one of them in the back of the head just hard enough to knock him to his knees in front of the approaching dead. Poor bastard. Then Burton was gone again, slipping closer to Hal with each jump. He had a simple plan in mind: slit the enemy captain's throat and watch his men lose morale.