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Thread: [M] Specs in the Ocean (IC)

  1. #11
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    As the four continued their sauntering path, they moved to part of town she had not managed to investigate much yet. Like much of the town, it was built around several docky extensions and converted ships, and seemed to be filled with a decent mix of locals and travelers although the population density was far less here. There seemed to be mostly businesses in the area, including an open stall fishing shop run by a rather bored looking aquine Shifted and clothing store built inside a sailboat that featured a beautifully multicolor piece of saltsilk instead of a sail. The four moved past these stalls without a second look (although the shop owners watched them far more carefully), continuing to what looked like a Tavern at the end of the street.

    Yen remained well enough behind the group as they walked, enough to where she could duck behind a crowd of people on the rare occasion that the four seemed to have any self awareness of their surroundings. They seemed a rather simple minded lot, which wouldn’t surprise her if they were what she expected them to be. They came to a stop outside some sort of tavern and huddled together, no doubt to come up with some catch phrase to say when coming in the tavern that was the epitome of cleverness and wit. She rolled her eyes. It was lucky that they seemed able to communicate to each other with actual words.

    She looked at the building itself from her own hiding spot, perched on a convenient barrel near the side of a building. It was small, but also one of the few buildings in the area that wasn’t a converted ship, although several parts of it seemed to be salvaged from various different sources. As the group looked in her direction, she took a rather large swig of water from one of her canteens, looking every part the worker on a break. She caught the name Tavern.

    The Flying Fang.

    ...a sharp tavern you should really look up…

    Yen choked on the water, sputtering out a cough which certainly brought more than a cursory glance from the four, who now looked at her more than some background set dressing. She moved quickly, staggering away from the barrel and deeper into the alley between the two buildings. Hopefully she would merely be ‘upgraded’ from idle work to daytime drunk. May the sea rise again and swallow the old woman whole, the joke wasn’t even any good.

    As Yen ducked away, and the four scheming seafarers guffawed about Island Nationers not being able to hold their drink, none of them saw a fox eared Shifted make her way into the Tavern.

    ---

    Andras was quite pleased with this last minute interview-- perhaps one of the stranger ones he had come by, but the woman seemed to have a surprising amount of experience for being blind (he would have to find out more on that story-- later) and seemed to have an amiable enough of a personality. Not to mention she had quite the interesting treasure with her-- quite the powerful AMI-- he imagined there was another story behind how she came to possess it (again a story for later). It was enough to take some of the edge off of his headache. Perhaps this stop wasn’t a complete loss, and he would add to the crew he already trusted.

    He glanced over at Esvera, watching her settle into the tavern that he had spent far more time inside than not, then back to William. (He deliberately did not look at the letter addressed to his name, still at the corner of the desk.) Once the paperwork was sorted for this final new crew member, he would buy all his (old) crew here a round of drinks to celebrate surviving another (somewhat successful) scavenging expedition.

    The moment of pensive reflection allowed for William to interject in ahead of him, the Shipwright expressing obvious enthusiasm about the AMI, causing Andras to smirk knowingly. Sometimes he forgot about just how amazing the technology of the Atlantians was, and how much they still didn't know about how it all worked.

    “Easy, William. Don’t crowd her too much, she’ll have plenty of time to explain things on the ship,” Andras began with a deep chuckle. He turned the knowing smirk to Shelke, his expression softening, as he opened his mouth to speak again.

    As he did, he realized the music had come to a stop, replaced by the concerned murmuring of the staff and the musicians. He had a sudden feeling his headache was about to get much worse.

    Sure enough, four lumbering figures (all shifted) came up behind where Shelke sat, they leering down toward her, eyes more fixed on the AMI in her hands than anything else.

    “What’s a little fishy like you doin with such a shiny treasure,” The smallest of the four (a feather haired avian Shifted) said with a voice dripping with violence. The other three chittered out a sycophantic laugh, and all seemed to be oblivious to anyone else, their greedy eyes all focused on the woman sitting across from him.

    This was their first mistake. Andras sighed, massaging his temples one final time before the kind demeanor melted away from him like oil repelled from water. “You have a problem with my crew member?” Andras said, his hands neatly clasped in front of him on the table. Get the attention of the four onto him, so that they didn’t notice what any of the others in his crew might be trying.

    This seemed to work, the four member goon squad turning their attention to him. “And what’s a human like you think he gots to do with this?” The feather tufted one spoke again-- whoever these people were (some low class pirates, no doubt), they weren’t very bright.

    “Captain Andras Genikos. And you are harassing one of my crew members.”

    “We ain’t harassing, we were just asking the fishy a question.” This time the scaled Shifted spoke. The other two wolf eared Shifted remained silent, although they nodded vigorously.

    Andras sighed, shaking his head. The place was small, so he was sure the others had enough time to get in position if this did turn ugly. He looked at the four, laying his hands onto the table, and meaning forward to glare past where Shelke sat. “I am really not in the mood for this. If you’re going to try and take the thing by force, just get it over with so my crew and I have reason to kick all of your asses.”

    The four seemed taken aback by this, they looking at each other, before quickly huddling up. The other patrons within the tavern remained rather nonplussed, although the bards did stow their instruments somewhere that wasn’t easily in a line for things being smashed. Andras tapped one finger impatiently on the table.

    “Fuck it, just grab the deep forsaken thing!” One of the wolf shifted snarled.

    And everything turned to chaos.

    At the door, another person had entered. An unassuming looking human with broad shoulders and silvery hair, a duffel bag around her shoulder. The current scene did not seem to draw much more than a raised eyebrow from her, she remaining near the door, dropping the bag to the floor and watching. Patiently.

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  2. #12
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    Esvera had moved from her seat to a position a short way behind the small group. Hopefully she'd be able to get the drop on them along with anyone moving to jump them with her.

    She tripped the big wolf up as soon as he called to snatch the staff from what she figured was the new member of the crew.

    She jumped onto the second wolf, and was thrown off as more crew joined in the fight.
    She went back into the fray, taking little thought of harm in this bar room brawl, she tackled the first wolf dealing with other crew.
    The wolves were both a bit bigger than she is. But she was quicker as she did her best to move around her comrades and the punches they threw in her direction, throwing some punches of her own as she danced about.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

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  3. #13
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    “Well, it’s most certainly more than a little stick, but I do thank you for the … odd compliment. As for how effective, above water its more general shapes than anything else, as the range is rather limited. When in water, I get a really good detailed map of where I am going.” Shelk responded, not moving her eyes off Andreas during the conversation. The man had a very warm smile as he responded to Williams' requests of how she got her Turok. She didn’t pay as much attention though as the music stopped, her ears picking up the steps of 4 people moving towards them, one very light, and others much harder to pick out. Shelk took a short breath, ready to react as the supposed leader spoke up, his voice alight with eagerness for a fight as they stopped behind her.

    “What’s a little fishy like you doin with such a shiny treasure,” the first one spoke up, and Shelk felt both a knee jerk reaction to deck the one speaking, and to laugh aloud. Going by the steps, and what she had seen of them outside her peripherals, the creature was much shorter than herself. She didn’t get a chance to respond though as the captain spoke up, naming her as a member of his crew. That made her light up enough, her lies having gotten her into the crew just well enough. As the two spoke back and forth for the few moments, already Shelk was mentally preping herself for combat. Her hand had shifted down lower on her staff, and sitting up ever so slightly in her seat.

    She had just enough time to react as one of the larger demanded to just steal Turok. Anger flashed red hot through her as she stood rather fast, giving enough force to push her chair back as she pulled her staff up and moved out of reach, just fast enough that one of the larger shifted, (a wolf that she could now see) skidded into the table as another of the wannabe thugs had been tripped up. She darted further out and turned, a bit more sluggish than she wanted to be when outside of water and faced the general direction of the men.

    Raising Turok, she slammed the aft onto the ground, getting a very good view of the group of four shifted now scrambling to get back some decorum of control, and her view locked onto the small avian shifted. Standing up to her full height, she towered over the Avian as she pulled back her staff, hands wrapped around the bottom of it.

    “None will steal Turok!” Shelk growled as deeply as she could, planting one foot forward and swinging her staff hard and fast. She was not known for her close combat skills, nor being the best fighter on ground. But her sheer height and strike distance helped make up for it this time round. Shelk swung hard, catching the avian in her ribs with a deep “THONK” cutting through the sounds. She got a great view of the bird brain upon that hit, the sheer grimace of pain in those few seconds as she swung through, putting enough force behind it that the woman was sent staggering backwards, clutching her side as the wind had been knocked from her.

    From there Shelk skittered back, taking shorter stabs and swings with the staff to keep people from possibly grabbing, the occasional smack of the staff on the ground emitting through the area, just to gather enough information as to where everyone was in the fight.


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  4. #14
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    Will nodded with keen interest as Shelk began to explain her staff in more detail, determined to commit every detail to memory. This was one of the more interesting bits of Atlantian tech he had seen recently and he would have to talk to her later about it. Then the trouble started. A gang of four Shifted strolled up like they had all the time in the world. If they were looking for trouble, he’d be glad to give them some. He watched the encounter unfold before him, mentally assigning enemies to crew. Finally, the larger of the two canines became impatient and made a snatch for the staff. Another Shifted he recognized as Esvera pounced and all hell broke loose.

    Esvera seemed determined to take on the two wolves by herself, while Shelk unfolded like an eel slithering from its coral den. She struck the shorter avian Shifted in her chest, knocking the wind out of her. Good form, he thought briefly, before joining the fray. The chair he was sitting in clattered backward as he rose, higher even than his new lanky friend. He rolled his neck, making a small series of pops. He swung his fist surprisingly fast into the gut of the remaining Shifted, a scaled, stoutish man with a blue tint. His foe groaned. He swung his fist in return, cracking his knuckles on Will’s plastron. He just laughed before shoulder-checking his foe.

    The fish-man wheezed as his ribs reached the point of slight fracture. He stumbled as he turn to run and Will snatched his collar. He yanked him back, pulling him onto the ground. He leaned over and grabbed the other Shifted’s shoulder and hip, hoisting him above his head. Now he was really laughing.

    “How high d’ye reckon the ceiling is?” He asked and the man’s eyes widened. He got out a pained, “no…” before Will swung him around and tossed him straight up. He smacked into the rafters with a sickening crunch and somehow managed to hang on. “Get down from there!” Will cried up to the thoroughly injured man, who shook his head fervently. “I’ll get ye down meself, then.” He grabbed the nearest object, a wooden chair, and tossed it up after him. It failed to jostle him loose. Will groaned with disappointment. He looked back to the table and grinned a wild grin.

    Bonk! Will beaned the man in the head with his empty stew bowl, finally knocking him loose. He snatched the man again.

    “Not making the same mistake twice.” Instead of tossing the man up, he leaned back and threw him at the two wolf Shifteds facing off with Esvera. The scaled man moaned deliriously.
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  5. #15
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    Chaos.

    Or, at least the teetering edge of it. He wouldn’t grace calling a good old fashioned bar scuffle (it wasn’t even really a brawl, more like a rout from how things were going so far) with as grandiose a title of chaos. Regarding the rather unexpected combat skills test of his newest crew member, so far he was rather pleased. It seemed being blind did not inhibit her ability to give a solid thwack to any person foolish enough to get in range of her weapon.

    Andras made a quick inventory of the chaos brawl scuffle unfolding in front of him. By number of bodies, they were evenly matched, but it seemed (as expected) the skill of his crew (new hire included) outmatched whatever sorry collection of knaves this was. Probably one of the lesser pirate clans, by the boldfaced idiocracy of these four. No finesse or nefarious scheming that the larger clans were feared for. The Avian had staggered further away from Shelk, one hand clutching her side while the other braced against the top of the chair. There were deep gouges from talon like nails cutting into the seasoned wood-- a damn insult to some decent looking carpentry.

    Esvera was running interference on the two Lupine Shifted, drawing their blows and easily dancing out of their confidently but ill placed strikes, getting caught up in another as if they hadn’t had much experience with fist fighting. The Scaled Shifted was having the worst time with William, being tossed around like some dejected child’s toy when faced with the brute strength of his Shipwright. As he watched, he almost felt bad as the poor goon was knocked from the ceiling and thrown into one of the Wolf-Brutes, creating a pile up of Wolf Shifted, Lizard Shifted, and Table topped with the leftovers of Stew.

    The Avian Shifted-- seeming to be the brains of the bunch (which wasn’t saying much, as he doubted they had enough vocabulary to fit a single page in a book)-- looked around. There was a sensible wariness in her gaze, but it was quickly overtaken by a look of anger as she watched the scene unfold, and the tide turned (quickly) against her small crew.

    Andras met her near snarl with a patient smile, standing up and crossing his arms. It was a challenge. A dare. Go ahead and keep this up. See if you leave here with at least your lives intact. His attention was caught momentarily by another newcomer by the door, his eyes darting over. It took all his composer as both Scavenger and Captain for him to not swear violently on the spot. He settled for a mental tirade of curses which would probably make these pirates blush. This was not the plan. The new assigned member of his crew was not supposed to be here.

    In the moment he looked away, [i]that’s]/i] when the Chaos began.

    ---

    Yen was content to remain by the doorway, watching the scene unfold. Of those inside that were of the Poseidon Fleet, she had only met Andras when the old woman dragged her to some of the Captain’s meetings. The rest might have been encountered in brief passing, but she made a habit of interacting with people as little as possible. Observing them, however, she had done plenty of that. She refused to be caught off guard by any of the people of the Poseidon Fleet, if and when things went sour.

    There was one person she did not recognize in the fray, and the one that seemed to be in possession of the “shiny” that had drawn the four had been hunting down. Yen moved slightly further into the tavern to avoid the traffic of the more wary tavern goers making a convenient exit, although there were many that remained behind, the only change to them being that they now held their mugs of ale to prevent spillage if something was knocked into their table. There were some booth style tables near the entrance that were currently empty, so she moved to lean against one of the dividing walls, schlepping her bag onto the table.

    The barkeep waved at her, gesturing at the unfolding fight, before shrugging.

    Yen did not gesture back, looking instead to the fight. She briefly made eye contact with Andras. The look he gave could likely be described as “not pleased”, but that might have just been a lucky guess on her part.

    Yen returned the look blankly, before her attentions were drawn rather abruptly back to the fight.

    The two (soon to be three as the Wolf Shifted untangled himself from his ally and table) all seemed to reach some sort of consensus. It began with the Avian Shift, as she quickly ripped down the armband to reveal what Yen expected, but the mark itself was a surprise. She had several thoughts overlap at once.

    She thought the Pithos Clan had gone inactive.

    Her intel was a few years out of date.

    The Pithos tended to get into messes like this quite often, the collectors that they were.

    It was the Pithos Clan.

    Oh.

    The moment the Rune branded into the Avian Pirate’s skin was revealed, she hissed out the activation word. In the next she was pulling something from the flesh of her arm, fingers dipping through her skin as she gripped the item concealed within the mark and within her body. With a final pull, and a sound like gelatin being sucked through a straw, the item was revealed. There was a similar sound that came from at least one of the Wolf Shifted, he using the tangle of his crew members to his advantage to put some distance between himself and the Vulpine Shifted.

    The Avian Shifted brandished a pistol, and the Wolf Shifted wielded an overlong machete. If the other Wolf Shifted recovered quickly enough, he would likely have a similar weapon, judging by his earlier fighting style. There was a slight sheen of some form of fluid on its dark surface of the pistol, but the crudely wrought runes on the barrel likely meant it operated more through Atlantian Means than those of science.

    “Alright, you had your fun,” The Avian shifted spoke, backing away so that she was further away from the fighting members of the crew-- and closer to the entrance of the tavern. Closer to where Yen still leaned, rubbing her knuckles gently. “Give me the AMI or the fancy man gets it.” The Pirate pointed the gun towards Andras.

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  6. #16
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    Shelk found the fight rather hectic and panicky, a situation that she was not caring for at all. While she was used to a fight, she was more about hitting hard and running away, which she could not do. Thankfully her Turok gave her some range from the main party. The chaos that erupted around her had her vision swimming with sound, bouncing around as her staff found points that she could jab and strike the people who wanted to steal from her. The other people that joined in turned the theft into a rather one sided fight as they clobbered the fools. She could just barely make out the foxish shifted that kept the large wolf fighters occupied, while the tortoise man knocked the scaled shifted around like a sack of dirt. Andras was doing well enough himself while they managed to beat back the thugs.

    Shelk sighed a bit in relief while she took a bit more of a relaxed stance, tapping her staff on the ground and using their own grunts of pain to see the thugs get pushed into a dog pile in the center. The avian was the first to become untangled and dart back, gripping at her arm before ripping off the cloth there. She listened while she heard a sucking sound as the Avian girl seemed to pull something free of her arm with what sounded like slime. Shelks breath hitched some as she got a good look at the pistol with another tap of her staff. When commanded to hand over her weapon or let Andras die. Shelk paused, weighing the factors of letting her new captain die, or handing over her Turok. It was enough to give her pause for a moment, before sucking in her breath.


    "Okay.. okay. Just don't.. don't shoot." Shelk spoke, holding her arms up and Turok flipped around, with the sphere pointing towards the bird. She kept her arms up as she moved to put herself between Andras and the barrel of the pistol. She shifted her side back, her right side back to shrink her side down some and look meek. While her larger frame did not allow for this all that well, her lanky frame lent some benefit to this.


    "Just.. let me say goodbye to it. I've had it since I went to sea. It helped me crest.." with that word, the blades erupted from the hilt, twin points that formed outwards, curved inside and angling downwards. Just as they passed the middle, they curved back inwards before joining the shaft. A loud thrum echoed from between the points as the blades fully appeared, and Shelk wasted no time at all. Pulling back her arm like a bow, she launched the blade, her arm bending like a snake as she launched the bident forward, spearing the avian just above the gut, enough force to stumble the bird shifted. If they were willing to pull out weapons, Shelk would not hesitate to unleash her own. It felt like fresh cold sea water when the blades came free, like stepping free of binding cloths.

    "Even Dreams, can be a nightmare"
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  7. #17
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    "Great shot!" Esvera said as two of the combatants became a tangled mess.
    The big wolf lunged and was promptly evaded with a swift, but solid blow to the liver, crumpling him for a short moment. "The bigger they are, the harder they-" She cut off as she realized the small avian shifted had pulled a gun. The Wolf that she had dropped got up, painfully, and did the same thing with a sword.

    Her mind started to race as Andras was threatened. She eased away from the man to get some distance. She may have been dancing around him before with some glancing blows, but a good hit from that blade would not be good for her.

    The newcomer crewman, the shark shifted, spoke in response to the threat.
    "Okay.. okay. Just don't.. don't shoot." She said and moved in front of the line of fire. She had to bite back a curse.
    Now she didn't have to worry about her captain being shot, but the new crew mate. Wasn't much better.

    And everything seemed to happen so fast, yet so slow.
    The blades were bared from the staff the newcomer held, and it flew like a javelin.
    The Brutes heads were turned, and they seemed almost as stunned as she was.
    Esvera drew her own pistol, made with her own hands, and fired a blast of energy at the closest wolf shifted brute, taking larger steps back to create more distance.
    She put a few more shots into him, making sure he was down before moving onto another target.

    She was not smiling. Her eyes were like green stones. There was nothing to enjoy here.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

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  8. #18
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    William took a threatening step toward the avian Shifted who held a gun to his captain’s head. He couldn’t cross the distance before a bullet or beam of Atlantian energy punched a hole in Andras’s skull. Shelk was going to give up her staff, before he even got a chance to look at it! But it was a trick! Two blades slid from the end of the staff, forming a bident before Shelk stabbed the pirate like a fish. Speaking of fish…

    Will strode over to where his old combatant lay on the floor. He had only been playing before, a light tussle to start the day. But now it was violent. It was going to be a bloody fight. And he might not be a shark, but William could smell blood. He grabbed the other man’s ankle and yanked him bodily off the floor. With a loud crash, he brought the man back down, cracking his skull on the ground. He swung again, pivoting to slam him into a wall. By now, the man’s face was a gruesome mess, blood seeping from a face that resembled ground tuna.

    With a final thump, he slung the Shifted away from him, sliding across the floor of the tavern where he impacted against the far wall. He caught Esvera riddling one of the wolves with some energy holes and smiled a grim grin. He snagged the other wolf with a grip like a vice and pulled him close, wrapping his massive arms around the man’s neck. He trashed in William’s grip, but the movement did nothing. Will’s arms only grew tighter. Claws and fists impacted his shell but he could only feel it as a dull thump. With a roar of rage, he twisted his arm savagely and snapped the Shifted’s neck. He didn’t even know he had died yet. He turned ominously to the Avian.

    “You’re outmatched, birdie. Give up.” He snarled.
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    There was a mental tally Andras kept of all the times they managed to dock without some kind of incident coming to pass. Every so often, he liked to visualize this tally board, often late at night when he still had plenty of work to do, for the haunting lack of any tally was enough to keep him wide awake for several hours more.

    That being said, having a gun pulled on him and witnessing the quick dispatch of the pirate assailants was one of the more interesting stories to write the Hearth about. Not that he ever made anything sound interesting in the reports he wrote to Admiral De Poluntus. He already had the report write up for this Island Nation drop forming in his mind. New crew member was quick to improvise when a small kerfuffle occurred at Island Nation establishment. The Admiral would probably be far too distracted by the word 'kerfuffle' to care about anything else he wrote.

    On the topic of distractions, he supposed it was wise to address the fact he had a gun pointed at him. Had being key, as Shelk was quick to take initiative, giving him time to only raise a bored eyebrow at the Avian Shifted at the threat. One did not serve as Captain of a Scavenger ship in Nero without having at least a few occasions of being threatened with a gun. Most of the time, he only needed to threaten certain dismemberment to the one threatening him to diffuse the situation. He had quite the charismatic streak in life threatening situations, and he could make poetry out of violence that enthralled as much as it terrified. It would probably be lost on this lot, so the more direct means of the art form were needed.

    The chaos came to a pause.

    Andras looked around at his crew. Esvera had used her own firearm to nimbly deal with one of the Wolf Shifted. William had made quick work of the scaly Shifted and the other lupine Shifted, shelling out a set of likely lethal and efficient blows. Shelk was quick with her rather slippery trick with her AMI (he would have to get a full catalog of its capabilities later), spearing the Avian with the newly reveal bident. (he also spared another glance to the area near the door, looking to where he expected the new 'officer' still observed silently, but she was no longer there.)

    Only the Avian remained conscious, but it looked to be a short lived thing, blood oozing out from around the edges of the AMI blades to puddle on the ground, joining feathers that were already shedding from her head. Her breathing was labored, and a corpse like lacquer of sweat gleamed like a veil on her skin. Andras took a few steps toward her, his expression bored (though he kept a mindful eye on the gun still somehow clutched in her hand). The Avian pirate staggered back, moving even closer to the door, her other hand clutching the AMI desperately as the bottom of it dragged on the wooden floor gnarly hiss.

    "Wrong choice," Andras said, shaking his head, "I would say 'try again next time' but it doesn't seem like that'll be an option for any of you."

    The Avian opened her mouth to say something back, but there was only a bubble of blood that came from her mouth. Her expression changed from the haze of shock to one of rage. It seemed the girl realized she was about to die, and thus came the ultimatum moment, as per the usual routine. Would he have the gun brandished at him again or would she try to charge? The girl gurgled out a shout as she--

    (ah, she chose the gun)

    (not that it mattered)

    As the Avian raised began to raise her arm, another figure-- his most delightful and unfortunate early arrival, Yathia di Poluntus, came from behind, yanking the gun from the pirate's hand as she passed. The Avian-- already being on rather wobbly legs and not having the mindfulness to expect something to pull her forward-- staggered forward. But the Avian did not make it far, the butt of the staff catching on the ground, causing the blades to impale the rest of the way through her, the sound of flesh tearing followed by a cascade of gore spilling from the enlarged wound, followed further by a large fwump as the final pirate collapsed to the ground.

    Yathia stopped a few paces away from him, she giving a cautious glance to the Orphan crew members, likely sizing them up if they thought her to be a threat. She seemed unconcerned in the next moment, holding out a piece of paper-- a letter he was sure was identical to the one he received just the day before.

    "Reporting for Duty." The girl almost mumbled, and it seemed she disliked speaking the words almost as much as he loathed hearing them.

    "You arrived early." He replied, taking the paper as a sign that this 'newcomer' was not another threat. He watched as Yathia quickly disarmed and partially disassembled the gun, before setting the pieces onto a nearby table, also taking a quick moment to wipe both blood and slime from her glove. She made no other response, but positioned herself to keep the others in sight.

    Andras turned his head away slightly from the pitiful puddle of pirates, sighing deeply as he lookied to staff of the Flying Fang. They emerged from cover, one brandishing a rifle like weapon toward the unconscious pirates, all of them looking less than pleased about the new decorations in their tavern. "Apologies for the mess."

    The one with the rifle shrugged, "It was a matter of time with that lot. Better off they are dealt with. Just wish it wasn't my floor they were messin'. Pirates. Practitioners of any of those dirty magics. They all deserve to perish in the deep." They spat on the ground before looking back to the others. "Some of the patrons probably already went to grab the help. Unless you want to get stuck here for the next month playing court games, I recommend ya get movin."

    Andras nodded gravely. "I'll be sure to find another gift whenever we make our way back, as payment for the trouble."

    "You know what I like. Now get moving, before I decide to make you all mop this place as payment instead."
    Last edited by Vaidia; 10-27-2021 at 01:02 PM.

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  10. #20
    Mystic of the Grimoire
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    Shelk felt a bit dismayed that Turok had not sunk deeper, leaving the Avian alive just those few moments longer. She would need to practice her toss, having gotten used to just having it float around her in the ocean waves. As Andras stepped around her, she waited, holding her breath to see what the dead bird would do next. Listening to the man speak, she could hear the confidence in his words, taking the time to listen and notice that the rest of the fight had died down, leaving nothing but stillness as the remaining pirate weighed their options. Her eyes mostly stayed glued to where Andras was meant to be, not wanting to move yet until the last of the actions were taken care of. Her body twitched though as the Avian raised their gun, planning to take at least one of them with, just before a new figure revealed themselves. Shelk lifted her head as the butt of Turok hit the ground, sending out a soft ripple that she was able to pick up in the stillness.

    Looking at the new woman, she couldn’t make out much in her appearance, the black cloth obscuring most of the woman's visage. The best she could get was the outline, putting her much shorter than herself, yet built like a block of stone. Broad shoulders and a lean figure didn’t leave much for her to grasp, and the best she got was that the person was humanoid in some fashion. It didn’t take long for this woman to introduce herself as a new crew member, carrying herself with an air of some discipline just from the way she spoke and presented herself. Shelk already felt wary around her, though moved forward to reclaim her weapon as the others conversed. While the distance wasn’t long, having let her weapon sit inside another corpse still weirded her out, especially when it was closer to a human. Gripping the staff, she softly spoke to it, commanding it to collapse the blades. The metal seemed to waiver like water, fluid and shimmering before appearing to ripple back into the sphere at the base. The dead corpse of the body slipped down to the ground, falling with a wet thud into the still growing puddle of blood, even more now that the blades were no longer stopping it up.

    “Sorry, sorry.” Shelk spoke aloud and aimed mostly at the bar owners for having caused a problem. At least this time, the reasoning hadn’t mostly been her fault. Sure the pirates had wanted to steal Turok from her, and she had drawn first blood, it was only in defense of her new employer. Surely they couldn’t be mad at her for that reasoning.

    “I didn’t mean to cause this much of a problem, and was more acting on instinct. I’ve been shot at a few times, and I know those hurt like hell.” Shelk spoke as she drew herself upright, tapping her staff twice on the ground to get a good view on everyone's placement, turning to mostly face the whole crew that she had just joined.

    Hopefully this wouldn’t happen at other bars.

    Last edited by Koti~; 11-11-2021 at 03:23 AM.

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