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Mourning Isles Civil War: Battle for Eswynd Rock

The traditionalist forces converge on House Eswynd, engaging in a sea battle in order to drive back or decimate the march. Losing this battle will force House Eswynd to retreat into a siege situation with the opportunity to later break out of it.

Date

Aug. 26, 2022, 8:30 p.m.

Hosted By

Scraps Aedric

GM'd By

Scraps Aedric Smile Panic Kalakh

Participants

Quenia Victus Kalakh Lucita Smile Ian Neilda Kastelon Jamie Wash Temira Haakon Jasher Raja Medeia Zakhar Giorgio Savio Caspian Orland Titus Smile Panic Kalakh

Organizations

Location

Outside Arx - Mourning Isles near Tyde Hall - Isles of the East Wind

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


Haakon checks command and sailing at hard. Haakon is successful.

Raja has joined the Kennex.

Giorgio checks command and sailing at hard. Critical Success! Giorgio is spectacularly successful.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, Eswynd's security tightens. Haakon in particular begins to shake down even people that his family might normally see as allies. In one notable exchange, a merchant son from one of their vassal houses takes offense. Haakon's nose is slightly more crooked after the exchange (or straighter? depends on its starting point).

All in all, things are quiet and the tension grows. Until one day, the Eswynd's finally shake loose information from one of the 'fishing' ships in the area. That turns out to not be a fishing ship, but a scouting group from House Dredcall. After a vigorous interrogation (RIP), they get the information they need to set up their ships and to harry the oncoming attackers.

It's successful in that they shave off a decent number of Dredcall's ships before help arrives from Navegant, Nightcove, and Greywalke.

It's enough time and enough space to give Eswynd and their allies time to set in and engage without having one foot backwards.

Among the rebel fleet sails a flotilla bearing the banner of House Greywalke. Until this moment, the family -- outside of intermittently harassing trade routes employed by loyalist forces -- has remained fairly neutral, their blades, ships, and machines of war stayed in favor of heavy-handed talks and political intimidation. Tonight, though, their intention is clear: they have come to wage war upon Eswynd and its allies. The county's vessels, though bland, bear no marks of battle and move in perfect formation, suggesting rigid discipline and formal naval training of its officers and sailors. Beyond the occasional command shouted by captains, the men and women at arms aboard are completely silent, the entirety of their attention fixed upon the rapidly approaching isle and enemy line.

The Igniseri Fleet has been sharing the waters around Eswynd Rock for a day or two now, having set up where the rest of the allies are located. Their fleet has doubled since their last battle at Redreef. Marquessa Quenia Igniseri can be seen on the flag ship. She's responsible for taking care of the tactics and strategy, trusting her various captains to keep the ships afloat. She stands at the ready to signal the flagsman, keeping a wary eye on the horizon and the various surroundings.

Prince Victus' flagship drifts just ahead of a detachment of Thraxian vessels. Having seen the battles of Darkwater and Redreef already, it had been prepped and launched for anotherchance into the fray. The High Lord themself is on deck. His armor and coat bearing plenty of scuffs and marks from previous engagements, although one piece is notably absent. Having replaced his alaricite with a more utilitarian rubicund, the blood red metal stands out among his ensemble. With sword in hand, he barks orders to the crew, which are in turn passed down the chain of warships that followed in their wake. The Prince was motivated, although whether that was from confidence or irritation that the rebel forces provoked, no one could say.

The commander of Navegant's forces is recognizable to those that may have met him before. Lord Dewy Navegant is notable for two things: the first is his youth, barely scraping 21, and the second is his natural talent at ship command in spite of that, a talent honed by Turo himself in the past few months. His ship is not quite at the forefront of their fleet, but nearly so, cutting a smooth line through choppy waters, and he can be spotted on deck, watching on with a careful eye as they draw near the infamously dangerous stronghold.

Lucita reaches up to adjust the buckle of her armor belt as she paces along the deck of the Saik ship Neilda commands. She casts a long glance over the men awaiting commands, her feeliings concealed behind a neutral expression. In even tones she speaks to Kastelon. "Thank you for joining us. These battles are beyond my abilities for the most part, but I do try. My sister-in-law married into Eswynd, and we wanted to help protect her and the neices and nephews... family."

No one who has known Admiral Isar Dredcall for any amount of time can remember when the man -didn't- look furious. On the deck of his ship, billowing orders to his men from the deck, he looks more fearsome than ever. He must have known that a portion of his scouting ships wouldn't return but nevertheless. He's out for blood. Two hundred ships flying the banner of House Dredcall seem poised to make directly for the ships of House Thrax and Tyde.

Once again on the deck of a ship along with Wash, Ian this far into the civil war, with as many battles under his belt as he has, is a much more subdued Ian than the person who smiled with his family, sailing towards Darkwater Watch. With Ashfont at his hip, he hangs onto a railing to help keep balance on the ship that he can't feel rising, falling, and swooping beneath him, and scans the horizon. There's a hardness to his mouth, and determination shades darkness into his electric blue eyes. He points out Graywalke's banners, and looks back to Wash, Jamie, and Raja, calling over the wind and waves. "I recognize that banner. Those are the pirates who've been harrassing Blackshore's supply chain." And then, as the Navegant forces come over the horizon, the further observation, in a dry, grim tone of voice: "Aethan's going to be pissed that he missed a chance to bloody Turo's nose."

Tonight, the Saik fleet is here with sails billowing in defense of Eswynd Rock. Commanding the fleet is a face not seen as of late, that of the twin sister of Medeia herself: Neilda. Outfitted in all leathers with a shining broadsword at her side, Neilda is in the lead ship of the fleet. Her voice rings through the ship as she shouts commands to the awaiting men, though words are truly not her forte. She's /trying/, that should mean something. "Just wait until Medeia catches sight of me, Lucita!" she calls with a laugh down to the Baroness, while keeping a keen eye on the seas - and the enemies - around her.

A sound, and the stroking at his beard, but Kastelon otherwise looks about as one would imagine - serious and concentrated as always, and while perhaps out of place far from the forests and upon the seas, the frown when ships bearing opposing reinforcements seem to come out of nowhere. "It's always something," he says lowly, with a mindful nod to Lucita at her words. A glance about then, as if for someone who's not there, and a breath. And then the unencumbering of his bow to be ready for what's to come.

Jamie has taken up a spot on the Kennex ships close to Ian where he is currently sharpening the edge of his trusty hand and a half sword. He sheathes the weapon when Ian speaks and moves over to the railing so that he can gaze over at the approaching ships. "Pirates you say? Sounds like its going to be a good day."

Kennex's fleet, mostly oared ships, set out when word reached Stormward of the approaching Dredcall. They have been here a day and barely begun restocking their water and supplies. Standing in readiness for the assault, they stand out to sea for maximum maneuverability when the first enemy flag is sighted. The flagship dromond, Ivory Sand serves as a vanguard with the others, with a knot of longships in their wake. This is an entirely new formation Wash has cooked up for this encounter.

Temira stands alongside her near-brother, She holds a serious look in place of the more jovial one she normally holds. This was her home and she would fight with everything she had to defend it. She ties her hair back into a braid as she grips her bow, at the ready to let an arrow fly. "Let's show them who they should fear, right near-brother?" She says to Haakon in a confident tone that she is ready to fight.

There had been valiant speeches given, when the hundreds of Eswynd ships had set out to intercept and delay the oncoming armada in a great series of hit and run skirmishes. But that was days ago. Now, after having bought as much time as they could for allies to reach them, the remaining squadrons of Eswynd longships coalesce for pitched battle. Voices are hoarse, sails are dotted with arrow holes before they are drawn in, the prodigals favoring oars for battle rather than the whims of wind. Haakon is aboard one non descript longship, as the Eswynd vessels trickle in by the handful, until forming into a battle line hundreds strong. Haakon's scarred lip curls in a near-smile at the sight of the assembled Loyalist fleet. Thrax, Tyde, Kennex, and more from further afield. The smile fades as he turns to regard the foe. An eye goes to the sky, marking the direction of the wind, and he rasps, "So it begins."

Wash checks command and sailing at daunting. Wash is successful.

Victus checks command and war at daunting. Victus marginally fails.

Not since the recent skirmish that took place off of Maelstrom's eastern coastline has Jasher made any appearances in public. On this particular day of impending battle with Dagonite forces for the defense of Eswynd Rock, the prince stands aboard the Lady Thunderstruck in diamondplate bearing the Thraxian sea serpent emblazoned upon the breastplate. Instead of the standard mask of smooth and unblemished neutrality, his face is marked by a multitude of abrasions that have not quite healed and an incredibly astringent glare that pairs well with the unbroken, watchful silence he's adopted since they departed Maelstrom. Wake's Edge hangs from his sword belt; Reafian is nowhere to be found.

Quenia checks command and leadership at daunting. Botch! Quenia fails completely.

Haakon checks command and sailing at daunting. Haakon is successful.

Neilda checks command and sailing at daunting. Critical Success! Neilda is spectacularly successful.

Lucita says, "Till she sees us both, Neilda." The reply is given in a dry tone. "You will be alright... I know this is hard on you, Arcella was a ... disapointment to us all." The word 'disappointment' clearly is a substitute for saltier, stronging words. "Just do your best.""

During the last battle, Raja had sailed with Eswynd to come against the forces that attack. This time, she has chosen to sail among the Kennex. During their time sailing, she has made herself useful in the various duties of sailing, being a bit well versed in the business herself. However, as the fleets converge once more upon open waters. She moves up to the railing, overhearing Ian and Jamie. A grin crosses her features, "It's a good day."

Not far from Medeia rests a 'shield' - the top of a wooden barrel painted in a childish fashion. It has the lady's attention for a long moment before she surveys the many, many ships ready to defend her home. Any close enough to her can see her expression wobble between pride and concern as she notes allies and friends and family among them. Her own armor is mostly hidden beneath a dress and cloak of aeterna, but a crown-like rubicund helm sits atop her head and a trident is in hand. Her eyes narrow when she spots Navegant ships. "How /dare/ they?" She seethes angrily, glancing aside to Haakon. In doing so, the turn of her head has her sighting the Saik ship that has Lucita and Neilda upon it. "Nel?!" The lady bites her lip and readies herself.

Whitebeard (Zakhar) stands at bow of Eswynd ship slow to tug at the long tattered leather wrap he uses to cut back the snow white hair of his namesake with the Eswynders whips frantically in the winds of the sea. Watching silently as the ships of the enemy cut through the waters towards them. The usual fryup has been left upon the shores, frying pan still strapped to his back as he turns back to glance to those that have given him home over the past months since we washed upon the rocky shores.

"I can't promise good," Ian comments to Raja and Jamie as Wash starts shouting his first orders. "But it's going to be bloody." Which may or may not amount to the same thing, at this point.

Jamie checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Jamie fails.

Wash checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Wash fails.

Neilda checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Neilda fails.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Ian is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raja is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Haakon is successful.

Victus checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Victus is successful.

Savio checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Savio is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Medeia is successful.

Jasher checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Botch! Jasher fails completely.

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at hard. Kastelon is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lucita fails.

Giorgio checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Giorgio is successful.

Zakhar checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Zakhar is successful.

Quenia checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Quenia fails.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Caspian is successful.

Temira wields Bowzer.

Temira checks dexterity and archery at hard. Temira marginally fails.

Medeia wields golden ritual trident.

Ian wields Ashfont the Sword of Ashcrest.

Lucita wields steel dagger with musical score engraved on pommel.

Wash wields Intricately forged ancient steel cutlass.

Victus wields Barathrum, the imperial oathlands alaricite greatsword.

Jamie wields Untamed, a hand-and-a-half sword of diamondplate.

Jasher wields Wake's Edge, an alaricite longsword.

Savio wields The Throngler.

Haakon wields winged war spear.

Raja wields Serpent's Embrace.

Quenia wields a diamondplate rapier with phoenix motif hilt.

Zakhar wields intricately carved femur cane.

Giorgio wields gem-studded alaricite cestus.

Victus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Botch! Victus fails completely.

Jamie checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jamie is successful.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Medeia is successful.

Neilda checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Neilda is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Raja is successful.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Ian marginally fails.

Haakon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Haakon is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lucita marginally fails.

Quenia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Quenia is successful.

Giorgio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Giorgio is successful.

Jasher checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jasher fails.

Temira checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Temira fails.

Savio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Savio is successful.

Kastelon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Kastelon marginally fails.

Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Caspian marginally fails.

Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Zakhar fails.

Wash checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Wash is successful.

Scraps drops Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Victus puts a rubicund breastplate in Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Titus has joined the Tremorous.

The Greywalke commander is a tall man adorned head-to-toe in worn steel platemail. His title, and name, are gleaned through the verbal acknowledgements of the flotilla's many officers as he barks his orders: Arminius. Perhaps unsurprisingly, those under the lord's employ wear armor similar to his own -- either unfazed by the prospect of drowning should they be knocked overboard or too determined to intimidate their adversaries to care about the potential consequences. When their vessels connect with the loyalist line, the county's marines board without hesitation. They carry pole-axes, longswords, and battle-axes. Their focus, it would seem, is the segment of the fleet flying the banners of House Kennex. "The Ivory Sand!" Stormward's flagship has already been identified.

Orland has joined the Tremorous.

As Navegant's fleet draws closer, Lord Dewy can be seen tipping his head toward one of the men who joins him. Then he straightens, and begins barking orders in a voice that's settled somewhere around an even tenor. The man who spoke to him waves a flag across the way toward the other fleets, and then Navegant angles sharply, smoothly, toward the Lycene ships, at unexpected speed, the rowers pushed to their limits. It pays off, as Dewy's ship, and those immediately flanking him, serve as a spearpoint that drives them a fair way into Igniseri's fleet. A worrying number of ships begin sinking, or simply crack apart, as the fleets engage, and Navegant soldiers begin boarding many more. The shouts and cries of the fighting and dying are loud enough to near drown out orders, but Dewy is still giving them. The young man is collected, tension in his form, but not his features.

As the Dagonite ships sail forward to engage with Eswynd and her allies, House Nightcove's fleet predictably peels off and chooses to engage with Eswynd directly. The survivors from the Redreef assault will recognize the flagship of Lord Waylan Nighcove, the young military commander that led the previous devastating attack. Their ships careen along side, oars drawn up as their ships lean ever so slightly over and chains are thrown across to attempt to entangle them.

The sounds of battle are deafening, drowning out the music of the ocean. The waves are turning blood red. From the rocky shoals and cliffs of Eswynd, the sound of brass rings out over even the cacophony of chaos. Then, miraculously, the ships of Tremorous emerge from hiding. It's a feat that not many would manage to accomplish, but somehow, Proscipi has. They sail in, their trajectory taking them straight for Greywalke.

When the ships bearing the royal family members of House Thrax are in full sight, the Dredcall fleet picks up momentum, eager to meet their former lieges in battle. It's a blood bath once the sailor men are in boarding distance, throwing planks onto the ships so they can slice through as many people as they can to get through to the nobles aboard. High Lord Victus' chest piece takes the bulk of the damage of what would could have been a crippling blow by an audacious Dredcall man at arm's spiked mace, cracking with the blade remaining embedded in. This leaves him open to the counteract from the alaricite greatsword, his eyes widening as this occurs to him. A distant Dredcall cousin makes for Jasher, attempting to take the prince by surprise, maiming him with a sword but missing any organs he had hoped to puncture.

Meanwhile the portion of the fleet attacking Tyde seem to have a little more luck. Isar Dredcall narrows his eyes as he boards the dromond of the Tyde Commander, Bronson, deftly ducking and side stepping the swinging blows of the Tyde men who aim for his head until he can finally cross swords with the man. It's a fairly long spar, compared to the poor luck of the others on the ship, lasting a few rounds as both attempt to find an opening whenever their opponent strikes. Isar manages to sweep Bronson's leg, impaling him through the chest when he buckles at the impact. Blood seeps out of Bronson's lips as he falls against the floorboards. Tyde has no commander right now.

Wash is ineffective in combat, as usual, but that doesn't detract from his command. He draws his dromonds into a tight formation, two by two, disallowing any longships to sail between them. This allows their defenders to double their forces on one side of the ship. The longships, rather than acting as escort, loop around the attackers, attacking the windward flank and tying their galleys and cogs with what looks like insufficient manpower to assail. But that is the point. Once tied up, the cogs in reserve muster forward and pour arrowfire into the stalled ships. Galleys form the bulk of the line, and while the flanking maneuver is enacted, every Kennex is ordered to fight defensively, hold out until the flank collapses.

As the sound of brass trumpets loud and true over the sounds of battles engaging, the Armada of the Southern Saffron, or affectionately called the A.S.S., emerges from hiding among the rocky shoals and cliff faces surrounding Eswynd Rock. Giorgio stands beside the sailor steering the vessel, and he can be seen for a moment pointing directly at the Greywalke vessels, seizing on this element of surprise as a full two hundred and forty-five Proscipi ships surge toward the enemy! "FIGHT! FIGHT FOR OUR FRIENDS! FIGHT FOR FREEDOM!" Giorgio yells at the top of his voice!

In the moments before the Ivory Sand comes into contact with one of the Graywalke ships, Ian glances at Raja and Jamie. "If Wash or I tell you to get back on a Kennex ship, get back on a fucking Kennex ship. I don't care what else is going on." With this last encouraging piece of advice, he shoves his way onto the enemy ship, going on the offense against a potential boarding party and turning himself into the kind of problem that demands their full attention. All of them. He catches an incoming sweep of a long spear with his alaricite-clad left hand, jerks it forward, and in the moment before the person holding it realizes that maybe he'd better let it go, Ian has used that forward momentum to drive Ashfont deep into him. He uses the leverage of the crumpling sailor (and his sword in the crumpling sailor) as a means of moving from his ship to theirs, although this does leave him off-balance for long enough that a couple of possibly frantic people get some hits in. If any of it gets past his armor (spoiler, at least one of those hits did), his penchant for black hides all signs of it. But he's in the thick of it, now; for most of the rebels, Ian is the Sword of Stormward, but there will be a lot of people in the Graywalke fleet for whom he is the youngest of the Brothers Kennex, a blood-soaked boogeyman who has stalked the southern Mourning Sea for years.

Zakhar spins when the chains hit the hull, swinging violently with the carved femur catching a few of those climbing over sides across side of their face leaving a new scar and at least one jaw to hang crooked for the remainder of the soldiers life. In his spin, a miscalculation of where the ships are coming along throws him into side of the ship. Having sliced at them, he is now in their range as hooks wrestle into arm and flesh pulling him off his feet and between ships for the brief moment, "FUCK! You're going to pay for that!" Blood runs from the slice as he leans and kicks at those that would attempt to remove him from the fight so early, grinning while pulling out a slip of cloth from pouch to quickly wrap around his arm, blood over his hand is slicked into his hair as he tightens his grip to the bone and readies to swing and stab again.

Neilda has no response to Lucita's mention of Arcelia, though there is the briefest of moments where she grinds her teeth, her jaw tensing with the action. It's gone the next instant as she puts her energy into swinging about the ship, her voice ringing clear as she shouts orders to her men aboard and to signal the fleet beyond. Truly, it seems as though she is in her element, at least for the moment. She's not /so/ far gone into command however that she can't lean off the side of the boat when she hears Medeia's shout, dimples burning in her cheeks as she waves furiously to her twin. "I'm baaack! Did you truly think I'd miss this?!" she calls overboard with a laugh. It is a single moment of glee before the chaos begins and Neilda leaps into action, though a fat lot of good all her broadsword-swinging does. Still, she dances around those who try to board, backing herself up closer to Lucita with intention of protecting her should it come to that. "GET THEM!" she calls to her men - again, not the best with words, truly. But the point's there all the same.

Haakon is only too willing to engage with the Nightcove detachment, rowing forward with a line of longships, while second and third ranks continue to arc volleys of arrows onto the Dagonite decks to either side. Haakon brandishes his spear and roars in a voice made hoarse but still remaining fierce, "SEND THEM TO THEIR FATHERS BELOW." He is in the forward rank with spear and shield, a thrust taking a Nightcove warrior in the face and sending the man toppling into the sea with an uneven scream, when the distant brass horns of Tremorus prick the ear. His upper face and eyes are concealed by the oculars of his war helm, but his foe can see clearly that the infamous reaver cracks a slow smile. "Call for Anders, ye lot! Cry for help if ye can, for look you all to the east, and see your bloody doom at hand!"

No smart words from Kastelon when the enemy fleet closes with them - his bow's already snapping off shots when the other vessels are getting close to the Saik fleet as he does what he can to try to buy some additional time and breathing room. That he's right where the enemy comes aboard, though - that bow is not as good for melee combat, and he can bash with the best of them. But takes, certainly, a good sharp thrust that gets past those defenses, the Oathlander not even letting out a yelp. "Push them back!" He shouts, as if to help boost Neilda's words.

Jasher breaks from his statuesque stance at the bow of Victus' flagship when Dredcall ships angle to make their final approach, with their intent to board made perfectly clear. Heavy steps bring him up to the starboard rail, his grim gaze thrown across the narrowing channel of sea water between the two fleets pending engagement in bloody conflict. A few still, quiet moments later, and chaos erupts around him. Heavy, makeshift gangplanks are lowered with a crash across ship decks, forging personnel bridges that grant each side immediate access to sailors and soldiers armed, armored and fiercely loyal to their own side, Jasher among them. The first face among the many he intends to kill is one that beckons memories of youth: a distant cousin from his past. This time, though, instead of embracing as kin, they trade blows as bitter enemies. Hesitation on Jasher's part to destroy the man opposite his blade thwarts any chance he has at coming out of the engagement without a wound, both to his body and to his own psyche. His cousin's eyes are filled with an intense disdain, and his strikes certainly follow that sentiment. The blood that runs from the prince's left shoulder begins to paint the Thunderstruck's boards red, mixing with the blood of others that have already fallen at his back.

There seems to be some trouble with the flagsman getting Quenia's orders. Either she doesn't shout loud enough, fast enough, or the wind carries them away, which is a hazard of working on a ship. As she is occupied with getting that sorted out, she doesn't quite see that the Navegant ships are blazing a path through her own at the start of it, not until the creaking ships splintering through the water reaches her ears. "Mangata CURSE you, Navegants!" she calls out to them, eyes narrowing once they have her full attention. Of course, she doesn't get to say much after that because the Navegants start boarding her own flagship. There's some back and forth, a swing here, a miss there, a feint, and another pass, but those who've engaged Quenia in direct combat manage to stay out of her range. However, she is also able to keep out of range, so she does her best to bide her time and conserve her energy for the next set of attacks, watching and waiting to anticipate the moves of her combatants.

Medeia had not been anticipating having to lift her trident so soon; still, when the Nightcoves come crashing over the rails, she holds against the sailor that comes at her. The barbed tips of her weapon gouge into his torso as she ducks to avoid his swinging blade. "HAAKON!" She pushes toward her husband and attempts to point out Waylan as the one that captured her at Redreef Shores. Then she's looking around at to try to assess where she is needed. The noise of battle is too much for her to catch Neilda's response, but the sight of Navegant churning through the Lycene delegation of ships has her rushing to the rail with a cry of anger.

Of all the things Greywalke might have expected... 245 ships from the opposite end of the world springing out at them might not have been it. Staunch allies of Eswynd through several wars now, the Proscipi of Tremorus strike at them at Giorgio's command, ready to add more blood to the water. Among them, of course, Savio, leaping to make contact with the enemy Greywalke men as soon as their dromond pulls alongside the enemy vessel. Savio takes a page from their host Haakon's book to call out, "WHOM WILL THEY FEAR?" and responses come back uh, varied, with 'Proscipi!' and 'Tremorus!' and 'Vaevici!' and 'Eswynd?' and 'US!' They're a little confused but they got the spirit.

Raja lines up to cross over onto an enemy ship along with the rest of the Kennex. A feral grin crosses her features as Ian gives his final instructions. "Of course!" It's sad that Ian has to double down on that explanation for Raja. But, there it is. Swinging onto the ship, she drops down upon one of the sailors with a feral yell, bringing down her blade into his neck. The crimson flow of the sailor's ebbing life force immediately coats her armor and hands. Spinning around, she dips as a swird comes at her head, the cruel cold blade slicing cleanly through the air. With a quick motion, she thrusts her blade out to stab the offender in the leg.

The chaos of battle comes fast. It's far from High Lord Victus' first battle at sea, and yet, sometimes it's simply too much. Chains and planks are thrown or dropped, and the sailors are clashing swords. The Mourning Isles' adeptness at sea cannot be counted on to pull them through-- it was nothing but Islanders on the other side. The Prince's eyes are darting, trying to find an opening when the man from Dredcall rushes him. With ferocity, he feels that mace smash into his chest before he can react. The spikes punctured deep enough to draw blood, but luckily not enough to deal a mortal blow. Hissing with pain, furious eyes find the Dredcall's own. Both men had an understanding in that brief moment. One of them was about to die, and only one of them had missed their shot. He brings his blade above his head, and just as quickly sends it crashing back down atop the man. Sprawled out on deck, the Dredcall is finished as Victus impales his prone body. Huffing beneath his helm, he digs his hand into the crack of his breastplate and starts peeling it back, till he can properly yank it off his body. "Fuck's sake..." There goes another one.

Caspian stands by the railing, grinning from ear to ear, "hahah! Lets make these fools wish they'd never set sail in these waters!" he looked to Giorgio, eyes flashing in the thrill of the fight to come and knives flashing, "For Freedom!!!" he echoed the man's cry and turned, hoping onto the railing and preparing to board. He glanced to Titus, Savio, and Giorgio "We'll make them weep when they think of the day that the A.S.S sailed right up their asses!"

Jamie moves to support Ian's left side in the conflict but quickly finds himself pinned on the Kennex ship by one of the opposing spearmen. He keeps attacking in an attempt to make the space he needs to press forwards only to get pushed back again by the other weapons superior reach. As frustrating as this seems to be. At least he's distracting some of the enemy.

Orland was hiding, because hiding helped keep the ships in stealth ambush mode you know?! Orland does break cover as the ships start to sail out, checking his gear and making ready for their inevitable crash course into Greywalke ships. Orland does help Savio's cries, but he totally adds in, "AMADEO!" I mean, the two Amadeo lords are there, so why not harken that cry. But then he nods to Savio and readies to fight.

Lucita watches the battles errupting around her, trusting in Neilda to mamange the ships. She spots some of the Igniseri ships in trouble and casts a rope over the side, calling out to some of the Igniseri sailors, "Climb aboard, fight is not over, just starting.... OW!" A stray arrow from one of the enemy ships lays a furrow wound right through some of her leather armor though it does not lodge in place. A glance over her shoulder to Neilda is given. "I'm ok, I'm ok. Just trying to haul some more help aboard."

Temira had let her attention drift towards the other ships momentarily as she felt the ship lunge as it was being boarded. Trying to catch herself from falling by releasing her bow from her hand proved futile as she was kicked hard into the ship's wall, the wind knocked out of her as where she had hit against was where more people were on board. Temria barely blocked her face as she was kicked and stomped on by those on board. After what seemed like forever, Temira made a break for it and grabbed her bow and stumbled over to take cover.

The pale Warmonger is the deck as the Tremorus fleet have arrived with a surprise. Walking among the Saffron sailors and fighters, he's giving them an encouraging word and letting them sip from a gold skull chalice that grins the final joke of the Queen that waits for all. Listening to their last moment worries or concerns, he reminds them that they fight for a righteous cause. "Think well of your foes and fight honourably, don't let them win by letting your emotions run amok. Fight well, fight hard and let your honour not yield." He lifts a flag that has a white triskelion on it, holding it with a pale hand. "Let them know that Eswynds have allies and cares not for their claims or threats!" The flag flutters a little before he puts it on like a cloak, he's going to take that banner to the enemy it seems should anyone look at Titus's flag.

Giorgio checks command and leadership at daunting. Botch! Giorgio fails completely.

Neilda checks command and leadership at daunting. Neilda is successful.

Victus checks command and leadership at daunting. Victus fails.

Quenia checks command and leadership at daunting. Quenia fails.

Haakon checks command and leadership at daunting. Critical Success! Haakon is spectacularly successful.

Lucita checks command and leadership at daunting. Lucita fails.

Wash checks command and leadership at daunting. Wash fails.

Kastelon checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Kastelon fails.

Jamie checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Jamie is successful.

Neilda checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Neilda fails.

Savio checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Savio is successful.

Orland checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Orland is successful.

Temira checks dexterity and archery at hard. Temira fails.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Ian is successful.

Giorgio checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Giorgio marginally fails.

Victus checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Victus is successful.

Quenia checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Quenia marginally fails.

Titus checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Titus is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Haakon fails.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Caspian fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lucita marginally fails.

Jasher checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Jasher is successful.

Wash checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Wash fails.

Zakhar checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Zakhar fails.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raja is successful.

Medeia checks luck at hard. Medeia marginally fails.

Savio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Savio is successful.

Giorgio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Giorgio marginally fails.

Quenia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Quenia fails.

Titus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Titus marginally fails.

Orland checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Orland is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Haakon marginally fails.

Neilda checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Critical Success! Neilda is spectacularly successful.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Botch! Ian fails completely.

Jamie checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jamie is successful.

Wash checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Wash marginally fails.

Victus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Victus fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lucita marginally fails.

Raja checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Raja is successful.

Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Zakhar is successful.

Temira checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Temira is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Caspian is successful.

Kastelon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Kastelon marginally fails.

Jasher checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jasher marginally fails.

Ian puts an articulated alaricite glove in Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Medeia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Medeia fails.

Ian gets an articulated alaricite glove from Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Haakon has left the Eswynd.

Haakon has joined the Eswynd.

Kastelon checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Kastelon is successful.

Kastelon remains capable of fighting.

Titus checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Titus is successful.

Titus remains capable of fighting.

Ian puts an articulated alaricite glove in Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Scraps has joined the Igniseri.

Scraps has left the Igniseri.

Scraps has joined the Tremorous.

Scraps has left the Tremorous.

Scraps has joined the Eswynd.

Scraps has left the Eswynd.

Scraps has joined the Thrax.

The strategy of the Armada of the Southern Saffron (see: A.S.S.), to remain hidden amongst the stony outcroppings surrounding Eswynd Rock until the enemy was otherwise preoccupied, was a strange combination of unorthodox, maddeningly brilliant, and impossibly lucky. For all of the Greywalke's preparation, an ambush from behind was clearly /not/ a form of naval engagement that its officers had considered. Regardless of cost, it is unmistakably successful. As soon as the Pravosi skirmishers begin their boarding, the loyalists are forced to abandon -- at least momentarily -- their fixation upon destroying the Ivory Sand.

But the fight is not over. Not yet. Half of Arminius' forces are locked shoulder-to-shoulder with Stormward's sailors. The skirmishing that takes place atop the debris and corpse-cluttered decks is brutal, slow, and bloody. The command to encircle and flank the flotilla is a sound one -- and, for now, seemingly effective. So great is the ferocity and single-minded drive to maim that concerns regarding the reputations of notable fighters present are overlooked in favor of wild swings and savage blows.

The shouting of captains, and Lord Arminius, is distinct. Their fighters are trained, disciplined, and fairly compensated. They will adapt, and quickly.

Scraps has left the Thrax.

Scraps has joined the Saik.

Scraps has left the Saik.

Scraps has joined the Tyde.

Scraps has left the Tyde.

A couple of Graywalke spearmen have gotten maybe a little too focused on keeping Jamie at bay, to the exclusion of Ian, armed and currently set upon from multiple directions, possibly thinking that the youngest Kennex brother can't possibly be any kind of a threat in such conditions, or maybe that he's too much of a goody two-shoes to stab someone in the back. This bit of questionable decisionmaking winds up being their last. Because Ian is NOT a goody two-shoes. He flat out cuts one of the spearmen down from behind, and then runs the second through. While his sword is thus occupied, however, one of the other people trying to cut him down takes their chance, and unable to bring his sword up to parry the war pick, he lifts his alaricite glove like a makeshift buckler, intent on warding the blow away. Warpicks are made for the getting through of armor, and this one has no problem against the elegantly articulated creation that Ian is wearing. He's probably not going to be using that hand much for a while.

Isar Dredcall is all too happy to get back on his ship as he sets his sights on Victus. His second seems to have full control, as though he anticipates what his admiral wishes to do next. His fleet seem to have faced some heavy losses, comparable to Thrax's but the man is undaunted. His fury seems to fuel him as the ships in his command continue forth, attempting to block the Thrax fleet on either side. More Dredcall men at arms board Victus' ship, giving Jasher and the highlord very little breathing room. Such is the way of war.

Navegant's forces continue to cut through Igniseri like a hot knife through butter. The wound isn't mortal - at least not yet - but it's a bloody, jagged swath of broken ships and dead or dying sailors. Lord Dewy continues to stand at the prow, watching the destruction with a careful eye, occasionally issuing orders to his officers. More flags wave, though chaos is hard to keep organized. Quenia's shout draws him away from his focus, however, and for a few moments he looks directly at her, youthful features pulling into a small, yet distinct frown. He brings a closed fist over his heart, nods his head respectfully, and calls across the water, "My men will accept an honorable surrender from any man willing to throw down their arms!"

"GOOD TIDINGS TO YOU, LADY ESWYND!" Lord Waylan calls as he disarms an Eswynd sailor and runs him through with his sword, sending him toppling over the deck of the ship and back into the sea again. When Medeia makes a frantic effort to depart the Eswynd forces to join with Tyde, however that plays out, it goes rather poorly. The small rowboat she commands with one or two sailors gets about half-way to the Tyde ships before she's shot through with an arrow.

It's at this point that a Nightcove ship cruises up to them and she's pulled from the water. "Don't worry, Lord Haakon! We have our healers! She'll be in good hands! Again!" Lord Waylan calls, hanging from some rigging as he watches his men do the work of rescuing Medeia.

A couple of Graywalke spearmen have gotten maybe a little too focused on keeping Jamie at bay, to the exclusion of Ian, armed and currently set upon from multiple directions, possibly thinking that the youngest Kennex brother can't possibly be any kind of a threat in such conditions, or maybe that he's too much of a goody two-shoes to stab someone in the back. This bit of questionable decisionmaking winds up being their last. Because Ian is NOT a goody two-shoes. He flat out cuts one of the spearmen down from behind, and then runs the second through. While his sword is thus occupied, however, one of the other people trying to cut him down takes their chance, and unable to bring his sword up to parry the war pick, he lifts his alaricite glove like a makeshift buckler, intent on warding the blow away. Warpicks are made for the getting through of armor, and this one has no problem against the elegantly articulated creation that Ian is wearing. He's probably not going to be using that hand much for a while. (minus butterfingers enter key this time)

"Where you go, we shall follow!" The Keaton oath comes easily to Kastelon's lips when he's drawing from his spot, to move to where he can help with the Saik soldiers to try to fend off the assault aboard ship. The bow is drawn back for a moment, the flash of Oathlands steel when his blade's free and he's wading in closer. This is not perhaps an ideal situation - he's getting far more seriously than he's giving, nicks and slashes to his armor as he's getting a good grasp of the state of those around him. And then a few steps back - better, perhaps, to stick to what he better knows and stem the tide in other ways.

It does not take longer than that last perilous strike to utterly destroy what hesitation Jasher may have felt for killing that distant Dredcall cousin. He steps hard into the enemy personal space, placing him on the defensive while well-placed thrusts of Wake's Edge begin to wear down armor and flesh, until he forces that last few, ragged gasps of air to escape punctured lungs in the aftermath of his writhing death throes.

Those of the Saik Fleet fight hard, attentive to the bellowing commands of their commander - even if Neilda's orders are incredibly short and sweet. It's all fairly comprised of shouts like "PRESS ON!" and "DON'T STOP!" and "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE ---!" as Neilda dances through spear and swordsmen, far too graceful on her feet. She slips beneath a sword that goes straight for her throat, dodges a spear meant for her belly, all while keeping eye on her men and her ships. Not a single loss on the Saik Fleet for the moment! "How about I surrender my sword into your FACE?!" she hisses overboard to Lord Dewy, brandising that broadsword menacingly before she catches sight of someone going for Lucita - there's a sharp gasp across her teeth before she grabs hold of one of the ropes, using the stomach of a swordsman to push herself up into a leap and /SWING/ over to Lucita, coming between her and those that wish her harm. "Fuck 'em up!"

Wash never even gets close to the front lines. From his position aboard the command deck of the Ivory Sand, he exhorts his crew and leaves the fighting to those that know what they are doing. A boarder does manage to land a blow when he climbs a grapple to the top deck, but Jayne tosses the man overboard before Wash's life is seriously in jeopardy. He's actually paying more attention to his unfolding naval strategy than to the assault on the Ivory Sand, to the point where he is actually disappointed to see the enemy retreat. "NO! Complete the encirclement!" He snaps to the flagbearer, sending signals aloft to accelerate his flanking maneuver. "Lash the rails! They bought this pig! Let us choke them with it!"

The strike of the warpick slamming into Ian's hand causes Raja to wince. "M'lord!" She calls out as her wicked, curved blade slices through someone's throat, "I am not sure whether or not to be impressed or dismayed that you took that blow with your /hand/." She cackles! Grabbing a rope, she uses it to quickly turn herself to face her next foe! The weapons clang and she does a jaunty little hop out of the way as a huge hammer comes towards her, leaving her opponent off-balance. Poor bloke. She makes quick work of him.

All cries from Giorgio are swept up in the fray as the ASS collides with the Greywalke vessels. Giorgio has never been much with a sword, but as the ships collide and the soldiers surge together, Giorgio remains at his brother's side, throwing fists of fury clad in alaricite! He takes a hit and grunts from the impact, but hearing the cries of their enemies, Giorgio looks to his allies and says, "Savio! Caspian! They're calling for leadership! Target the captains and Lord Arminius if you can get to them! Cut the snake's damn head off!"

Quenia is able to find a pause in the battle a moment to catch her breath, some of her sailors joining in nearby to shift some of the attention off of her if only for long enough fo Quenia to catch Dewy looking in her direction and make his show of respect. She studies him a few short moments and gives him a respectful nod back for his fighting acumen, but that is all. "We are Igniseri. WE WILL NOT BE QUENCHED," she calls back to the Navegant commander. She then turns her attention back to the battle, narrowly just missing getting hit only to step into the oncoming sword of another attacker meant for another person. Dewy's distraction served its purpose, and she takes a hard hit to her upper left arm. She goes back to dancing between the various combatants on her ship.

Orland wields Tiderender, a rubicund greatsword.

Titus wields The Flame of Sangris.

As soon as Ian clears the obstructing spears out of his way Jamie leaps across into the gap into newly open space. He lands neatly, hops over one of the fallen bodies, and drives across to counter another of the many, many, foes trying to take down Ian Kennex with a savage two-handed blow from his diamondplate sword which literally disarms the man. "Thanks!" he calls to Ian as he shifts to protect his flank. "I owe you one." A grin is tossed across to Raja but nothing needs to be said.

Orland flourishes a perfect singular rose to Savio before he starts to engage with the token enemy of the hour. Tiderender, his rubicund greatsword is drawn and he boards with the others, taking a plank this time rather than swinging across - probably to minimalize risk to breaking a leg. Again. Engaging the enemy for him goes smoothly, for now. He carves a path across the plank and boards an enemy ship. Huzzah! "You know, they say I'm pretty Amazing-" he proclaims to the nearest Graywalke, "You sure you want to do this?" He tries to intimidate them at first but then it eventually comes to blows and he hacks and slashes through.

Temira stays in her hiding place and ties to regain her footing before entering the battle. Her eyes look over the edge to spy Medeia being snatched out of the sea. She was cursing that she wasn't able to get an arrow into that man before taking her.

Down some protection, Victus adopts a more cautious stance as more and more Dredcalls come rolling through. Clutching his wounds one moment and then reapplying the grip to his greatsword the next. Steel and alaricite clash, with the High Lord pushing back with a mix of ferocity and discipline. Not quite utilizing sheer brute strength for the time being, as such tactics often leave one too vulnerable. His breathing is heavy, and blood is dripping down his chest. Luckily, whatever was splattered on his coat wasn't his for the time being. He manages to catch another sailor with a wide sweep, cutting them down. He's biting back pain, and the effect is evident in his slouched posture.

Zakhar kicks, scratches, crawls across the ship boards while stabbing at those climbing aboard and seeking to run others through. "Yes, I'm down here." A slice at groin and staple of foot to board of ship deck as he works over to another pulling them to the deck to then sit upon them and use a cow bone crowbar to pummel a face in. He's working his way to stand back up as he's left to duck and roll back over the deck of ship.

Savio's steelsilk is already splattered with blood from the engagement recently joined; his weapon is not a tidy thing. It's a big stupid flat bat thing with alaricite teeth, and every contact it makes with a human body makes a mess. Throngling is not a finesse art (but it is effective). "ON IT," he confirms back to his brother, and shifts targets to try to attack the leader of the vessel he has boarded -- the captain, if Lord Arminius himself is not there.

Lucita says, "I am OK, I said. I'm not expert but I'm not helpless either. Admittedly this not my strength Neilda but ...HEY, watch your back! She lashes out with her dagger, not doing one whit of damage to an enemy but at least making him back off a step. There is a string of curses muttered under her breath as the two Saik women watch out for each other. She misses seeing what happens to Medeia, being caught up in the skirmish on her own ships."

Caspian is one of the first over the side when they close with the Greywalke ships. chain blades flash as he dives headlong into the mess of men, screaming and howling like a banshee to help drive the element of shock and surprise home. His attacks do more to simply drive people back, allowing for more to pile onto the enemy ship. At Giorgio's shoot Caspian grins, "let's see how the Captain floats in that platemail!" He begins to shove and twist his way further onto the ship, searching for Arminus. "You lot might as well start begging for mercy, its already over for you!"

The spray of saltwater mists across his gaunt face as Titus places his skull like helm on his head as the Greywalke's ships get closer. Waiting for the command issued by Giorgio, Titus takes a group of fighters as ropes with hooks are tossed over to bring a ship alongside. With a battle cry, he leaps across a boarding plank and draws the Flame in one hand and jumps down to engage the enemy, taking one defender already down with a vicious slice across shoulder and neck before kicking them away. It's a small foothold on the ship, and while Titus is able to use his shield to block one attack, a mace smashes against his bicep which crunches through metal as blood begins to seep underneath. His white teeth flash with a grimace under the helm, and yet the Eswynd flag he carries with him is still up. "Lord Arminius!" he calls out in the clash of metal and splintering of bone and wood, seeking the leader if they're on the ship.

Jasher begins to retreat from his position to more fully support Victus, lending his blade, armor and awareness to ensure that he remains standing at all costs.

Lucita glances over toward Kastelon quickly. "You doing ok over there?"

As Medeia stares out at the bloodshed and choppy water, she notes that Tyde's commander has fallen. "The Tyde fleet needs help!" She calls out, but Haakon and Temira and everyone else is so engaged in battle that the lady takes it upon herself to go to them. But a small boat in so much turmoil is not an easy thing to maneuver. And arrows are the worst. Waylan's words filter through to her and she groans. Groans another groan on top of the groan from the pain of having an arrow in her. "We have to... Stop meeting... Like this..." She says to him through gritted teeth.

The Eswynders are in their own waters, fighting to throw back their ancestral enemies (alongside other until-too-recently ancestral enemies) within sight of the crags and clouds of their home island, led by their war chief. Spirits are high, and Haakon keeps them stoked for the fierce fight. Waylan is pointed out, before Medeia slips to the back, and Haakon nods. "BUT WHO WILL CARE FOR YOU?" he roars back to the Nightcove's taunt, seeking to lead a press through the melee toward the named nobleman.

Kastelon manages to turn his head slightly while he's getting himself untangled from the worst of the melee, hearing Lucita, and there's a nod. "I'm not dead yet." Which is a truthful statement, if only that.

Scraps checked dexterity + woodworking at difficulty 19, rolling 178 higher.

Scraps drops Greywalke.

Ian has left the Kennex.

Ian has joined the Greywalke.

Caspian has left the Tremorous.

Caspian has joined the Greywalke.

Jamie has left the Kennex.

Jamie has joined the Greywalke.

Titus has left the Tremorous.

Titus has joined the Greywalke.

Savio has left the Tremorous.

Savio has joined the Greywalke.

Raja has left the Kennex.

Raja has joined the Greywalke.

Victus checks command and leadership at daunting. Victus is successful.

Wash checks command and sailing at daunting. Wash fails.

Quenia checks command and war at daunting. Quenia marginally fails.

Haakon checks command and sailing at daunting. Botch! Haakon fails completely.

Neilda checks command and sailing at daunting. Neilda is successful.

Scraps has called for a check of command and leadership at daunting.
Giorgio marginally fails.

Giorgio checks command and leadership at daunting. Giorgio fails.

Savio checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Savio is successful.

Victus checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Victus is successful.

Giorgio checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Giorgio is successful.

Orland checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Orland fails.

Neilda checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Neilda marginally fails.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raja is successful.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Ian is successful.

Giorgio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Critical Success! Giorgio is spectacularly successful.

Zakhar checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Zakhar fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lucita is successful.

Temira checks dexterity and archery at hard. Temira is successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Jamie is successful.

Quenia checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Quenia fails.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Critical Success! Caspian is spectacularly successful.

Jasher checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Critical Success! Jasher is spectacularly successful.

Wash checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Wash is successful.

Titus checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Titus is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Haakon is successful.

Kastelon checks dexterity and archery at hard. Kastelon is successful.

Quenia checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Quenia fails.

Orland checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Orland marginally fails.

Neilda checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Neilda is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Haakon is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Raja fails.

Savio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Savio marginally fails.

Victus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Victus fails.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lucita is successful.

Wash checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Wash is successful.

Titus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Critical Success! Titus is spectacularly successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Caspian is successful.

Jasher checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jasher is successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Botch! Jamie fails completely.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Botch! Ian fails completely.

Kastelon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Kastelon fails.

Temira checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Temira fails.

Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Zakhar is successful.

Jamie checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Critical Success! Jamie is spectacularly successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Jamie does not take a permanent wound.

Ian checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Ian is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Ian does not take a permanent wound.

Ian checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Ian is successful.

Ian remains capable of fighting.

Jamie puts A stag-and-moon engraved rubicund breastplate in Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Raja checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Raja fails.

Raja has suffered a serious wound!

Raja checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Raja is successful.

Raja remains capable of fighting.

Quenia checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Quenia is successful.

Quenia remains capable of fighting.

Kastelon checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Kastelon marginally fails.

Kastelon checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Kastelon fails.

Kastelon is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Victus checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Victus marginally fails.

Victus is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Scraps has joined the Igniseri.

Scraps has left the Igniseri.

Scraps has joined the Tremorous.

Scraps has left the Tremorous.

Scraps has joined the Eswynd.

Scraps has left the Eswynd.

Scraps has joined the Kennex.

Scraps has left the Kennex.

Scraps has joined the Thrax.

Scraps has left the Thrax.

"I hoped it would come to this." Comes Isar's gruff voice once he's in calling distance of Victus' ship. He doesn't smile despite his words. I suppose this is happy scowl. "You and your shav loving dogs will die like the gods-forsaken cowards you are." He makes for the High Lord, cutting him through the chest in the process, though keeps his gaze on the Thraxian warriors who may target his back, including the former Sword of the House. Even so, he probably didn't expect Jasher's blade to come quite so swiftly. It knocks him back. He may not be down but he growls in anger as blood gushes down his side. "Missing your sword, your highness?" He says as he gets back up, leaving the unconscious Victus alone for now.

Scraps has joined the Saik.

Scraps has left the Saik.

Greywalke's flagship, though centrally located, is easy enough to identify. Now surrounded on all sides by vessels commanded by Maelstrom and Pravosi, boarding it comes without significant difficulty. Lord Arminius, half a head taller than most of his crew, is unmistakable. Upon recognizing that he has been cornered by the enemy, the peer raises a gauntlet and lifts the visor of his helm, revealing a cold cerulean gaze and sharp facial features.

"Surrender your weapons and I pledge to return you safely to your families, once hostilities here have ceased," he calls, summoning a handful of his most well-trained and loyal marines with the wave of his hand, "...or fight, and let Gloria decide our fates."

The commander expects violence. From his back he draws a vicious flamberge, the behemoth of a blade polished and impeccably well-maintained. He holds it at the ready, prepared to swing wide and utilize its great length to his advantage. Around him, his retinue of guards take position, shields and arming swords at the ready.

As successful as his men have been, it does not change the fact that Dewy Navegant's ship was at the near prong of the initial attack. He draws his saber, taking a single step back as the soldier next to him pulls up a shield, and murmurs once more to his messenger. More flag waving, as a number of Navegant's ships begin to turn toward Saik's, the force fairing far, far better in the exchange. The young Lord utters a word - exactly which is lost in the fray, but the meaning clearly is not - and archers draw along the side of his ship, firing into the midst of Saik's fleet. Only then does he look back toward Quenia, but a moment, and tap his closed fist over his heart again. "Press on!" he calls to his men.

"I'm sure that I'll have plenty of people to take care of me!" Waylan calls down to Haakon, briefly covering his eyes from the sun so that he can watch as the Nightcoves pluck Medeia onto one of her ships. He waves to her from the rigging and then climbs down, rejoining the fray.

The Eswynds are cutting a path back through, and Waylan leads them forward. He's intent on engaging in this fight too it would seem.

Orland is not trying to follow the group going after the head of the snake. He's doing his best to keep the enemy Greywalkers off Tremorus ships! It's getting harder though to keep the tide back. The advantage was swinging. There was blood and bodies, spilling into the waters, being shoved into the darkness of the depths, or being run through. Orland fights on, squaring up to protect one of the boarding planks to ensure that their warriors can get back if they aren't already being slaughtered. He boot kicks someone in the face, spending them into the drink, "CALL ME A FLEA AGAIN AND YOU'LL DO WORSE THAN DROWN!" He brandishes Tiderender and sings a little, the ditty compliments of Nortorius Songwringer Savio Amadeo and it may just well show up in the Bard's College concert,

"You thought of me as just a flea
But I am stronger, faster, free!
You try and try to break and bend
But I'll be laughing in the end! Hahahaha!"

Good thing Giorgio was there to save him from a Greywalker who wasn't a very big fan!

As the war crew aboard the A.S.S. command vessel begins to head off in search of the enemy leader, Giorgio turns back and aims a punch at one of the Greywalke soldiers that just barely grazes it's intended victim. He curses and spins away from a swipe of that sword, ALMOST looking like he knows what he is doing, until he collides accidentally with Orland and knocks the Amadeo lord away from a swipe that would have gotten him. Turning to look at Orland, he offers a yelled, "Sorry!" for bumping into him before turning back to the matter at hand. These two hands. PUNCH PUNCH.

"FUCK!" Neilda bellows when Kastelon goes down before she twists back to Lucita. "Not useless at all, which is why I'm keeping you safe! Somebody get Kastelon to the healers!" she hollers that last part out as an order to one of her men, before pushing herself back into the fray. Though chaos abounds, she manages to hear sounds on the wind of Waylan with her sister - it's truly too bad she cannot kill with a look alone, as she throws herself to the side of the ship just long enough to shout, "LORD WAYLAN! If you touch a hair on my sister's head, I will turn your balls into my new boots!" Nevermind that she can't seem to hit a foe to save her life. For now though, her focus must be on the Navegant, not yet daring to fight on two fronts with Waylan's crew as well - though /yet/ is the apt word there. "Behind!" she shouts to Lucita as she dodges yet another blow. If only she was as good with a sword as she is at avoiding them! Hearing the echo of the Navegant Duke's order to his men, she raises her own voice, clear as a bell: "PRESS. ON. BETTER!"

Ian's primary means of keeping himself from falling over on the pitching deck of a ship involves a lot of grabbing things and steadying himself with his off hand. His left hand. The hand that has recently had a close encounter with the business end of a war pick. By the time he cuts his way with Jamie and Raja to where Arminius may possibly be having some regrets about his choices in life, his face is tense and white from the pain. It isn't enough to stay his progress or his (uninjured) hand as he closes in with the others, but pain is notorious for giving people a certain amount of tunnel vision, and Ian maybe should have thought about that before plunging forward this way. Seeing Caspian, Titus, and Savio closing in from the other side, he focuses on taking guards out of their way, rather than bear down on Lord Arminius personally, his elegant fighting style unimpacted by the pain he's obviously in. At least not the attacking part of it.

With the dromonds now lashed together, the Ivory Sand and her whitewood railings married to Arminius' darker hull, the battle surges the opposite direction as with the Pravus assault it is the Greywalke fleet that has to fight a battle on two fronts. The departure of such stalwarts as Lord Ian Kennex, Lord Jamie Greenmarch and the loyal Raja Culler leave only Wash to lead the defense of the Kennex flagship. Before the deck is given entirely over to the armored enemy, Wash descends from the command deck with a loose line and a plan.
Wash knows a ship better than any man aboard and after securing the line aft, he holds his saber aloft. "Kennex DOWN!" He shouts and waits a beat before cutting his own flying boom off the foremast. As it crashes into the ocean it snaps the line taut. Anyone still on their feet is struck by the falling weight of the boom. Heaven help anyone who was standing on top of said line. He promptly stabs the first fallen armored man where his armor is separated while recumbent. "Kennex UP and ATTEM!" No one will ever accuse Wash of fighting fair.

TWANG! No, Kastelon -is- doing far better with that bow of his, when it's brought back to bear, and he's firing into the surge of the soldiers who are rushing aboard the Saik ship. That he's still taking slow steps backwards and doing so is a good sign. What's not as good is the fact that he has but the one eye since Pieros, which does render him a little... blind to some of the things going around him, the positioning to let one of the foe get close, and that slash of a blade.
And the Oathlander looks down to where he's been caught. A breath, a beat. "This is suboptimal," says he, deadpan.
And the Keaton huntsman crumbles to the deck.

Zakhar is spending more time on his back upon the decks than he did when he was a lad running along the piers. A laugh and grunt as he continues to roll away from those that now have thick bolts of steel hammered through their calves and feet. Nothing keeping them in place, though they will have a wicked need of loss of foot if not seen to quickly.

While Jasher is in the process of retreating to Victus' position, his armor having been pierced and Thrax soldiers working overtime to keep Dredcall soldiers at bay, Lord Isar makes his approach. The prince watches it all unfold even as he forcibly wedges between a horde of clashing combatants, careful not to trip over the dead and dying along the way; try as he might, however, he is too late to spare his High Lord that defining blow. Just as Victus falls to his knees, Jasher breaks through the line of soldiers, weapon raised and voice booming above the din of strife to cleave his shoulder. The weight and force of the blade clangs audibly against platemail, but ultimately makes purchase with the flesh and bone hidden beneath. Isar staggers backward, makes his scathing assessment, then rebounds with rather more grace and determination than the prince expects, but it does not undermine his white hot passion to see the Prince of the Isles defended, or worse case, avenged. "Apparently not," the prince spits in reply even as he raises Wake's Edge with intent to step forward and engage, no matter the odds he faces.

Jamie looks to Ian and Raja before gesturing in the direction of Lord Arminius with sword still in hand. "Lets see if we can end this." He doesn't wait for more than a heartbeat before starting to duck and weave his way across towards the Greywalke's commander. His approach broken only briefly as the bodyguards decend on the small group and he is forced into the sort of hard close quarters fighting that doesn't really suit his choice of sword. Fighting his way through with a cleaved breastplate and more than a little blood marring his clothes he promises. "We offer the same pledge to you, Lord Arminius." His approach significantly more cautious now. Moving more in support of the Pravus assaulters rather than charging straight in. "Surrender and you will be treated fairly. Fight and may Gloria favor us."

There is more back and forth on board her ship as Quenia continues to dance around the deck to stay out of reach of combatants. To say that this is the second battle in a row where she's not had a very good day is an understatement. Her brow draws close together as she does her best to keep out of the reach of those sword reaching for her, but she manages to get hit a time or two more. Finally one of her sailors steps in to give her a reprieve, and she takes that moment to take stock of the situation. Frowning, clearly not happy at all, she steps up to the flag man and barks a very clear order. The flags start to go out, calling for the Igniseri retreat. "IGNISERI FALL BACK. RETREAT!" The Lycene Marquessa calls out to her fellow sailors, who then start sounding off the call to the other ships in addition to the flags. They will not be sticking around for the battle and will defend their flank as needed, but they are making ready to leave the battle.

Raja remains close to Jamie and Ian as they press through the marines! The Culler woman screams a feral scream as adrenaline surges through her veins! Blood sprays across her face as her blade cuts into her foes! Then.. there is Arminius. The man is an imposing figure and the reach he has with that blade far surpasses the reach Raja has with her own! The mighty blade slices into her side, immediately cutting into flesh and causing a rush of blood to spew from her lips. The Culler woman is knocked off balance and left skidding across the wooden planks of the deck!

Medeia is... Surprisingly calm for all of this. Her voice is pained as she speaks, though, "Could someone... Bring me a... Medic?" THe Nightcoves that have her have taken her trident, and now she's simply plopping herself down to tear at the hem of her aeterna dress to create a compress for her wound. That arrow is going to have to come out of her. Her head tilts as she gives Waylan a wave and then turns to one of the men keeping her. She snaps her fingers. "Bring me medical supplies. Now."

Lucita watches the carnage around her as the battle progresses. She moves to a position she can protect Kastelon from being finished off by those enemies now closing in on the Saik fleet. She extracts from her weapon belt a siangham and hides it at her side, biding her time. She watches the oncoming ship and waits, waits, waits and finally snaps her arm up and forward, releasing the weapon and watches it fly to skewer the Navagant ship captain and then watches him crumple as she returns her dagger to her hand.

Temira had finally gained better footing and made her way into the battle. launching an arrow into an enemy, sending him over the railing. Tonight is especially off in her skills, and in attempts to dodge a sword comin' at her, Temira feels the slash on her back from another sword. She moves back away from the fight and makes her way to a place where she could see. This was proving difficult and the best she could do was struggle behind a crate on deck.

Haakon forces his way toward the Nightcove commander and his once-and-again 'guest', with a knot of ferocious prodigal reavers about himself to clash with the precise and professional looking house warriors of Nightcove. "The bones of your kind have fallen into these waters for a thousand years, Nightcove! Eswynd will stand long after you're dead," Adding as his kicks back a Nightcove shieldman, "Now HAND OVER MY WIFE."

Caspian looks for the shiny figure, and picks out the tallest head he can see. That the man seems to be barking order also helps identify him. With knives flashing, he begins to carve through the sailors and guards toward the man. As he gets closer, a cluster of fighting blocks his way. He jumps onto the railing, scooting along on the wooden deck rail till he cleared the group and dropped back to the deck and closed with Arminius. Savio and Titus were there already, and Ian, jamie and raja closing from the other side. As Arminius made his salute and gesture, and jamie returned it, caspian offered a feral grin. "Tell me.. captain.. how many thralls did you offer that choice to hmm?" his knives flashed as he settled into a stance, testing the man's defenses. Then with a wicked whip, his knife whistled out on its chain, slashing low and coiling around the man's leg. He couldn't yank the man off balance, but as he ripped the chain back, the blade sliced a gash across the back of the man's knee.

Victus, between the fine protection from Jasher and the moment of respite he has from battle, is able to deliver some coherent commands to the rest of Lady Thunderstruck's crew. It keeps the majority of them in the fight for the time being. Bloodied but as of yet unbowed, Victus' eyes find Isar. Fighting through the pain, he manages to bring his blade up in an effort to block. But Isar is that much faster. There's a brief glint in Victus' eyes, beneath that sculpted helm of his. The spark of fear as the blade bites into his unprotected chest. He stumbles back with a clumsy, one-handed grasp on his greatsword's hilt. The other tends to his chest, where a rush of blood spills between his digits. He breathes in once. Then twice. Then, it's all starting to darken. In his mind he was still holding steady, blade forward, ready to continue onwards. In reality, he was shuddering down to his knees. The shock on his face is hidden beneath his helm, but the rattling gasp he lets out is telltale enough. His instincts clinging to lucidity, screaming to do /anything/ but fall. As hard as they try, they can't hold him for a second more. The High Lord clatters onto the deck, still weakly gripping Barathrum as his eyes roll back.

Lucita gets siangham from a subtly embroidered cloth belt.

Lucita puts siangham in Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Haakon has left the Eswynd.

Haakon has joined the Eswynd.

Titus is cutting a path through the Graywalke forces and while Ian might never even see it, Titus sees an enemy coming to strike the Kennex down with a cruel cut. Taking his battle flag off his shoulder, he gives it a quick looping motion and wraps it around the blade and wrist of the enemy, pulling the weapon away in a fluttering flash of colour before the Flame cuts down the attacker. Hearing lord Arminius speak, Titus gives a salute. "May Gloria look down and be pleased that while we may be on opposite sides of this situation, that we all will greet the Queen with our honour intact. No matter if you or we win or lose, only our true enemies will win today as every person struck down is a sword and shield that won't be available to fight the Horned God and his allies."

Neilda checks command and sailing at daunting. Neilda fails.

Haakon checks command and sailing at daunting. Haakon is successful.

Wash checks command and sailing at daunting. Wash fails.

Jasher checks command and sailing at daunting. Jasher is successful.

Giorgio checks command and leadership at daunting. Giorgio is successful.

Jasher checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Jasher is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Haakon is successful.

Wash checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Wash marginally fails.

Titus checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Titus is successful.

Giorgio checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Giorgio marginally fails.

Orland checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Orland is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Lucita marginally fails.

Temira checks dexterity and archery at hard. Temira fails.

Savio checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Botch! Savio fails completely.

Caspian checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Caspian is successful.

Raja checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Raja fails.

Neilda checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Neilda fails.

Zakhar checks dexterity and archery at hard. Zakhar fails.

Wash checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Wash is successful.

Haakon checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Haakon marginally fails.

Giorgio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Giorgio marginally fails.

Raja checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Raja fails.

Jasher checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Critical Success! Jasher is spectacularly successful.

Neilda checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Neilda is successful.

Lucita checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Lucita marginally fails.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Ian is successful.

Orland checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Orland is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Caspian is successful.

Savio checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Savio is successful.

Titus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Titus fails.

Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Zakhar is successful.

Temira checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Temira is successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jamie fails.

Raja checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Raja is successful.

Raja remains capable of fighting.

Titus checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Titus fails.

Titus has suffered a serious wound!

Titus checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Titus fails.

Titus is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Jamie checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Jamie is successful.

Jamie remains capable of fighting.

This is a long and bloody battle, and like the others, the waters of the sea around them are stained with the blood of friends and family, of allies and enemies.

As it stands, House Greywalke has a downed commander and their offense is beginning to splinter despite how well arranged they were when this all began. Though they have taken a significant chunk of Proscipi and Kennex.

House Dredcall stands on the precipice of a similar situation between Isar and Jasher, with the House Sword of Thrax poised perfectly strike a killing blow.

House Nightcove has gone neck to neck with House Eswynd, and is now caught in a precarious moment of having Lord Haakon's wife on their ship. And Waylan and Haakon about to face off. Waylan turns to his guards, "Let the Lady Eswynd go early, then, I suppose. CUT HER LOOSE." And well, she's cut loose. And pushed forward. Not as nice a kidnapping as a tea party.

In sharp contrast to these other scenarios, Lord Dewy Navegant has beaten Igniseri into a retreat, though now they still have almost all of Saik to contend with if they stay. Which perhaps now, they might not.

Arminius acknowledges Titus and Jamie with a simple dip of his chin. Caspian's inflammatory rhetoric, though heard, is pointedly ignored. The philosophical merits, and 'justness' of thralldom as an Isles institution had already been decided.

"We fight."

To say that the lord was a skilled combatant would be an understatement. Each blow dealt to him is reciprocated swiftly and without hesitation. When presented with an opportunity to press his advantage, he takes it -- using his armor to absorb any strike he cannot successfully parry and his greatsword's length to discourage adversaries from approaching him when he is momentarily vulnerable. But the loyalists fight just as savagely, and he is eventually (thought not quickly) outnumbered -- his back exposed, his personal guard preoccupied. The killing blow comes, but from whom?

Scraps has joined the Eswynd.

"Ow." Medeia frowns as she's trying to deal with this arrow business, and then Haakon is yelling and Waylan is yelling and... "OW!" The push forward caused her to disrupt the arrow and prematurely snap the shaft. She stumbles back to Eswynd footing, falling to her knees once she's closer to Haakon.

Orland has come back stronger from the last battle on Eswynd shores. He's hacking and throwing people over the side of the ship, into the water. Greywalkers were like lambs to the slaughter, with Tiderender ripping through their leathers from the wide arcs of swings. He seems to have taken offense to being called a Flea and a Twit last time, even if these aren't the same guys, they deserve their end, their choice. "Surrender or you will welcome death... She comes to you sweetly, softly, but I fucking don't." He guts open a Greywalker that didn't surrender, didn't take the choice. The point of his blade goes to the next one in line to fight him, brows up, waiting.

Somehow, some way, while he is at the pinnacle of dueling one of the most fearsome men in the Isles, Jasher manages to rally the Lady Thunderstruck's crew and soldiers in the absence of its captain and commander. "Get Prince Victus to safety, now, quickly! Fight! Drive them back! For the /true/ High Lord of the Mourning Isles! For Victus! FOR THRAX!" he shouts with all of his might above the chaos of combat surrounding him, directly into Isar Dredcall's face and in sheer defiance of his principles and purpose for being here this day. To add injury to insult, the prince strikes hard and true, and though it is not Reafian that is held firmly in his grasp, where it rightfully belongs, the Sword of Maelstrom's whole heart is thrown into the defense of Eswynd Rock, his liege and the lives of their people all at once. And yet, when the moment finally comes to run this man through, Jasher opts instead to crack the pommel of Wake's Edge against the side of his head, which has the effect of rendering him unconscious...and a highly valuable hostage.

Raja reaches up to grasp at something to hoist herself up. The woman is battered, blood pouring from her lips. "Praise Skald for your choices today!" The Liberator calls out to the man. "For it is people like you that give me purpose!" She staggers forward once towards the man of Iron will. Should he be distracted by her? It is hard to tell. But, when she slashes down at him, he so beautifully parries and then strikes her down again, more of her own crimson life force trailing down from yet another wound. Severely weakened, her blade clatters to the ground and she looks up at him. Then she can see it, the moment where his face has that realization that a blade of some sort is struck deep in his chest. With blood still dripping from her lips, she begins to cackle knowing Arminius has the consequences of his choices now!

Haakon shifts the spear into his shield hand for long enough to help Medeia to her feet, and rumble a few words to the lady. Mykael is instructed to see the lady to safety, "While I finish this." The bloody handed reaver raises his rough voice to shout, "Every invader shall fall or flee! We will hound you from here until the East Wind blows warm! Your wrecks remade with axe and rope to line our shores with crosses, so that the next fucking lackwit who thinks to make us thralls and burn our halls will see: WHO WILL THEY FEAR?"

He is answered in a great shout from hundreds of throats, "ESWYND," as the prodigals resume the press to see their enemies driven from the home waters, as is tradition.

Savio is fighting alongside his companions against the Greywalke Lord - Ian, Caspian, Jamie, Titus, and Raja, adding his blows to theirs; trying to strike often and true enough to find purchase against the villain himself, to help buy time for those who need to retreat to do so under at least some measure of cover. A mistimed blow at the last moment sends his weapon sliding out of his hands and skittering across the deck, spinning like the world's worst game of spin the bottle. Spin the Throngler, and whoever it lands upon, you hit over the head. Its temporary loss forces Savio to reach for a backup and much more conventional weapon but he can't strike as he does so, and calls to his protege instead. "Show him the meaning of freedom, Caspian Wild."

Ian gives Titus a brief nod. "I ow --" And that's about when his knees start to give out under him, and he has to catch himself on Jamie's shoulder to avoid crumpling entirely, putting all his weight on his left hand with a bitten off curse, tense with pain. "I need to get back to the ship," he says to the Greenmarch lord (and to Raja, who may or may not hear him over the sound of how much she wants slavers dead, dead, dead). "Wash is --" And then Titus is going down, too. "Shit. Help me bring him, Jamie." One good turn deserves another. "Raja. We're going." It's a fighting retreat by two very injured people to get themselves and one very passed out Titus back to the Ivory Sand, and between pain, injury, and blood loss, Ian really is barely on his feet by the time they get there, but is already giving orders to have Titus taken below and preparing to fall on any unlucky Graywalke sailors still alive on the deck of the ship. In the sense of attacking. Or maybe just falling. It could really go either way.

Caspian snorts as the knight ignores him.... not that thats new or anything but he was sure going to make the man regret it! As the small group began their assault, blades flashing and blows hammering home, the Captain showed why he had held command. The knight moved with the fight, his sword flashing out to strike and parry the coordinated attacks. Again and again caspian landed a blow against the man, only to feel the strike turned aside by the man's armor. "You know for a walking metal bucket you move damned spryly in that thing!" Caspian danced back a moment, as the others struck and drew the Captain's attention. As Raja distracted the man, like an arrow shot from a bow, the Liberator hurled himself forward, slipping barely under a sweeping blow to drive his dagger into Arminius's arm pit. With a deft motion he twisted, and ripped the blade free, spinning away to drive a second dagger into the back of the man's knee. As Arminius fell to his knees Caspian spoke softly, "For every thrall you ever took... thank Skald you get a quick death." He drove his blade into the man's neck.

Ian has left the Greywalke.

Ian has joined the Kennex.

Lord Dewy Navegant's mouth turns into a small, careful frown. His ships are turning from Igniseri to focus on Saik, allowing their retreat, but he hasn't failed to notice - or be told - about how the rest of his side is fairing. He stands, gray eyes searching, and then with a sharp jerk of his chin, he waves toward his flagman. "Retreat!" he calls. "Pull back to your ships, come about, bring what wounded you can." No retreat is particularly organized, certainly not in such circumstances, but...his does manage to reach for it. Navegant sails for the horizon.

Neilda ducks beneath the blow of another spearsman as she hastens towards the side of her ship to witness the retreat of the Igniseri. But the Saik Fleet holds strong; there's no going back now. Hopping up onto the side of the ship, she holds out her sword to the ship of Lord Dewy Navegent, her eyes wild and honestly slightly manic. Adrenaline, it's a rush! "WE'RE COMING FOR YOU, LORD DEWY!" she bellows, before she holds up her fist to her crew. "PRESS. ON!" she cries out.

And just like that, the battle breaks. The combined forces of Greywalke, Dredcall, Nightcove, and Navegant begin to disengage from the main pull of battle. The call for retreat goes out, and Lord Waylan is calling for his ships to follow shortly after Lord Dewy's. It's not a clean break, because Eswynd's ships and their allies have the opportunity to harry them all the way out of their waters.

It's a win, a bloody, nasty win.

A much needed one.

Even if the wind cares not.

Jamie clearly wants to continue to press the attack against Lord Arminius right up until the moment Ian catches himself on his shoulder. He nods "I'll protect your back" and starts working slowly towards the sand, pausing only to scoop Titus up with a grimace of discomfort as he helps Ian to force a path back onto the sand. Inevitably he takes a few more blows in the process but he's still on his feet as he reaches the Ship and places Titus almost gently down amongst the other wounded.

Lucita keeps her eyes on the retreating ships, one foot stamping in a trickle of blood oozing out of Kastelon. "Lets get him to the healers. And us back to Arx. I need to visit a weaponsmith to try to get them to make another 'Capt. Killer'."

Titus has left the Greywalke.

Wash's cutlass gleams immaculately behind the line of sailors and soldiers pressing the Greywalkers back to their blood-darkened deck. The only blade he shed today was with the rubicund knife in his offhand. Seeing Ian's retreat, he issues new orders. "Forward! To the rail! Form up on me!" And for perhaps the first time he tries leading from the front. All he wants is to assure that the way is clear for Ian, Raja and Jamie and any crewmembers that followed them to return to the safety of the Iron Sands. "Jayne! The boarding axes if you please!" It helps to have a valet with more sailing experience than fingers and toes together. If the Greywalkers don't surrender their ship he's ready to pull back from the bloody front as soon as he knows his family is safe.

Scraps takes Panic and Scraps' Box Of Dearly Departed Armor RIP.

Victus has left the Thrax.

Raja looks up to Caspian as he stands over the fallen form of Arminius. There is a silent respect from one Liberator to the other. A single nod towards him. The man has earned so much respect from Raja this day. She then manages to stand, a bit wobbly. With the battle won, she makes her way back to the Kennex ships and finds a place to just sit and.. bleed.



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