OOC: Very WEAK post. Sorry guys. I am sleepy.

Kraven Desselius & Shavaash Opress, Lusty Lady.

Shavaash Opress and Kraven walked beneath the deck of the ship. The Imperial briefly glanced over the two couples Shavaash was speaking to. He leaned over to the khajiit. "A fine attempt to woo the woman from under the nose of her man."

Shavaash snickered and shook his head. "Shavaash make no try to seduce woman."

Kraven managed a haughty laugh. "My friend. The gods themselves as witnesses, you have no skill with seduction."

"Kraven knows that is lie!" Shavaash argued with a brotherly tone.

"Sanguine himself would be ashamed and proceed to ex pulse you from his Realm."

Shavaash punched Kraven in the arm slightly. But hard enough to make a sound. "Kraven need woman to satisfy craving. Been too long."

Both of the muscular warriors walked the decks of the ship, seldom glancing at the pirates as he walked by. The halls were filled with working individuals and shouting crew mates who were responsible for hard work on the ship. The gladiator duo traversed the cluttered halls side by side. The Imperial was already beginning to sweat.

"You seek to force speech that has been spoken of many times over." Kraven said. "I am faithful to my woman."

"Is woman faithful to Kraven?"

The question his brother in arms asked left a sour taste in Kraven's mouth. Was she faithful as he was? There was reason to suspect that there was nothing to worry about. His wife was the least of his concerns. The thing that worried him the most was the pirates that would prove to be more troublesome than before. And sure enough, Kraven heard heavy footsteps following him and Shavaash on the narrow corridor. He turned around to see the same pirates approach them. One of them had a dagger in hand.

"I fear you are in the wrong part of the ship, friend." Kraven attempted to calm them down before a fight broke out. But they had none of it. SHavaash braced himself for a fight. While Kraven was more calm and collected. The hall was small and narrow, but he had room to fight.

"Ye pay the coin or ye get off the ship." he said.

Kraven came to the conclusion that this would not end well. The pirates were too foolish to pursue a confrontation with two gladiators. But this was what a little booze could to to pirates who should of kept their feelings mum. Shavaash held his hands at his scimitar, ready to strike if anything would happen. The pirate duo rushed toward the two passengers. Kraven did not waste anytime, he allowed his aggressiveness to flourish. With a quick move, he struck the first pirate with a heavy punch to the face with his left hand. His right hand clenching his ragged shirt. He slammed him into a door that probably housed someone. Kraven didn't know nor did he care. He was going to make a point, no matter how hostile it was. He shoved the pirate in the door so hard, he dropped his dagger. Shavaash removed the scimitar from it's sheath and threatened the other pirate.

"Make a move and I will make sure it will be the last one" Kraven growled, rather loudly.

Servyn, The Lusty Lady

Servyn looked over as the door received its knock.

"Really? Is this some kind of joke? Who are you trying to keep out? If the pirates really wanted to get in, they have the key!"

Looks like the Argonian wants back so soon? Maybe he realizes the pirates aren't all that much worth his time after all?

Servyn walked over to the door, unlocking it. He swung it open, giving a friendly nod to the Argonian. He sat down quietly, letting some time pass.

~~~~~~

Arethan, Servyn The Lusty Lady

"Ye pay the coin or ye get off the ship."

The Dark Elf heard a loud slam pound its way into the door before them. He immediately awoke from a short nap, obviously disgruntled at the sound of the collision.

I am going to fry your ass sea-deep into Oblivion.

He busted open the door, dislocating the top hinge. It quickly flew to the side, leaving the only thing standing in front of him being a helpless pirate, stuck between an Ex-Her-Hand and a Lycan. Servyn followed behind his master, drawing his short sword. The older Dunmeri shot a fierce look at the pirate, giving him a rather nasty and tempered expression.

"Go to hell."

Arethan readied his arm towards the pirate's face, only to have it caught by the thug's closest hand. Arethan swung again with the other, but the pirate deflected the punch with his own defensive block. An arrogant smirk latched on to the pirate's face, as he began to laugh slightly in the face of Arethan Andas. The elf's eyes grew even more angry as his hands began to glow a green color, channeling magic into his finger tips.

Servyn stood by, watching the other pirates from a distance. He observed his older friend's techniques.

It's Alteration...

The slight sound of bending metal could be heard, as the former Her-Hand used his alteration abilities to bend the metal outward on his gauntlets' palms, filling them with jagged, moving points. The small projections coming from the individual gauntlets began to become greater in size, sticking out farther. The man before him screamed.

"Agh!!"

The pirate pulled himself back as the sound of rubbing metal could be heard. The blood from his punctured hands spilled onto the ship's wooden floor, as he stumbled slight backwards, holding his wounds before his very eyes. Arethan readied the same magically-altered steel gauntlets, sending a fake jab to the side with his left hand. He then followed through with a gut punch from his right, as the metal spikes devoured their way into the pirate's abdomen. The man gripped Arethan's arm in pain, trying to dislodge the metal that had impaled him.

After the pirate had screamed once more, loud enough for nearly the entire ship to hear, the Dunmer brought his left hand into the man's face, blood squirting from his temples. An electric shock followed, as the pirate's body lit up in a gigantic frail of motion before ever so slightly limping its way to the floor. Blood now pooled on the floorboards of The Lusty Lady.

Servyn found his way out from the door, motioning for Alaudis and Swims to follow.

"Let's get out of here. We aren't paying the pirates anything."

The young Dunmer used his telekinesis skills to send the dagger, which laid on the floor, towards their foes at a high speed. He watched as it struck one of the pirates in his groin area. Arethan's companion moved towards the pirates, sword drawn, smirking as he walked towards them.

"A Bretic knight once told me he had fought two days with an arrow through his testicle. I'm sure you could do better. You're a pirate, after all."

A fierce look stuck to Arethan's eyes, as Servyn's short sword ate into the arm of the nearest pirate. It was now a fight.

Cyric & Morgana - The Lusty Lady

Pirates, Cyric reflected not for the first time, could be awfully thick at the worst of times. A few minutes earlier, no one would have expected what happened next. The trouble started minutes after the Khajiit and Imperial passed Cyric and his sister to head further in the ship. That was when everything went to hell.

A blood curdling scream ran throughout the ship, followed by muffled thumps below the deck. Several of the pirates working on the deck paused uncertainly, glancing down towards the source of the noise with mixed emotions of curiosity and wariness. Suddenly a man burst out from the lower decks, he held a curved cutlass in his hands and his head swept across the deck with furious fervour. Catching sight of Cyric and Morgana, he fixed a hateful glare on the pair and pointed his blade towards the couple, shouting,

"Treachery! Treachery! The landsmen be fightin' our men below!" Loud hisses echoed across the ship as swords were drawn and shouts erupted throughout the ship. A handful of the pirates closed in towards the twins, their teeth bared not without a hint of eagerness for the coming violence.

Cyric and Morgana quickly found themselves with their backs to the balustrades, if they went back any further, they'd tip overboard. With no choice but to fight, or flee, Cyric drew his battered longsword from it's sheath as Morgana held her staff before her in a ready stance. Cyric glanced down at his sword, while it was rather worn, it was still sharp and surprisingly balanced. Only, Cyric could hardly swing the weapon without hitting someone, usually himself.

Well, there is one thing I can do.

Drawing his sword up and over his head, as though to swing down, Cyric made a wordless roar, but instead of swinging with it, he threw the blade instead. Several of the pirate's stopped in surprise as the weapon sailed through the air, stopping abruptly as it found itself embedded in the chest of the closest buccaneer. The man's eyes wore a look of incredulous horror as he slowly toppled backwards, unmoving.

"Never liked the thing anyway." Cyric muttered in reply to Morgana's raised brow,

"Remind me never to buy you anything again." Replied Morgana, sounding rather miffed. Cyric gave her a half-amused, half-apologetic shrug as he drew a sharp dagger from his belt, handling it with familiar ease.

"Duck!" Shouted Morgana, swinging her staff in a wide arc, cracking the head of a pirate who misjudged the length of the staff. The pirate fell back with a low moan. The three remaining pirates circled the pair warily, it was obvious they were hoping to overpower the twins by forcing them to fight the pirates in three directions.

"Well, if those two were any clue, these ones won't be so bad either." Cyric said cheerfully, though his tight tone betrayed his anxiety,

"Good to see you're still joking, you always have a plan when you talk like that."

That's just the problem. I don't have a plan this time.

Shouting a muffled obscenity, Cyric readied himself for the pirates retaliation.

Rihad Keep
Lysandra

She knew that question would come up sooner or later. For a moment, Lysandra said nothing, simply looking at the Knight Commander, considering his character and trying to predict how he would react. Stanet is certainly no fragile flower, nor is he a by-the-book type of knight; the Terentius in him takes care of that. But then again, he didn't waste any time in turning every person from the Yokudan delegation against him and once again his family traits probably ensure that he won't forget the jabs from Crixus.

"My source is Crixus Abu Nakute, you probably also remember him from the meeting." What the hell. If he doesn't know how to take valuable information no matter where it comes from, he wouldn't know how to act on this anyway. And he seems impressed enough by it to get over the hurt nobleman's honour sentiment. "He has been in the employ of the heathens' High King for quite a while now and spent it all in the upper circles; with his career, I very much doubt the man would still be alive if he wasn't a good judge of character. While his methods during our diplomatic council of sorts were a bit too blunt for my tastes, from what I learned during our little discussion, I wasn't the only one to drop subtlety in the face of unusual circumstance."

The battlemage furled the map up, removing the dagger and putting it back in its usual place beneath her cloak but within easy reach. "And if his information proves unreliable, I have ways of making sure he gets his due, even if he's outside the reach of the order by then. I very much doubt his patron would look lightly upon finding his trusted advisor's signature on a document from our order, clearly putting him as the informant behind the extradition of several people for 'thorough inspection of motivation'." As she voiced the official formulation that basically meant someone was going to be at the least tortured, a strange thought struck Lysandra. It would've been amusing to see how Crixus would've reacted to me ensuring the people he wants are well outside his reach. But there is a time and place for indulging whims, and it's most likely too late by now anyway.

"Speaking of which, the price of this information was negligible I would say, especially considering its scope. Nakute merely asked for my help in getting his hands on a person - and his family - who was, excuse me, is a conscript in Rihad's militia. That's how his signature ended up on the form."


Gilane
Samedi tribesman

The tavern quieted down once again when the strange group left. However, the aged man in the corner remained, attracting some curious and worried glances from time to time as the patrons of Medusa's Gaze tried to take in as many details of the strange presence as they could without attracting his attention to themselves. Even this close to the desert there were many superstitions regarding the nomadic folk of Hammerfell and what anyone had seen of this nomad seemed to suggest he wasn't truly one of the Ayuubs or from some of the small tribes that coexisted with them in the area.

For a while, only the sound of silent talking, people eating and the barkeep cleaning a particularly resilient dirty mug disturbed the silence. However, without warning the smoke that lingered in the dark corner of the inn shifted. The strangely clothed nomad stood up, still smoking his pipe; a faint trail of smoke followed in his wake as he weaved around the tables. Though they tried to be as unobvious as they could about it, all eyes fell on the Samedi as he moved across the main room of the tavern towards the apparently solitary figure of the armoured Breton. The aged man slowly made his way through the room, undisturbed, before stopping beside Sam's table.

"Samuel Ross." Though they had never met before, the nomad's throaty voice betrayed no doubt. He took the pipe out of his mouth and gestured towards an empty chair next to the Breton with the same hand. "May I?"

This will be easier if he listens. But if he turns me away..? That is always possible, unwilling to see as the city-dwellers are. I will need to find another way then; their path bears too much potential for importance for the only one here who has at least glanced at it, trying to see in the dark as it may've been, to relent so easily.

Taneth, Temple of the Nine

Flanked by two Diamond Guards, Tarsius approached the temple. His bodyguards opened the doors for him, the hinges creaking. I must remember to have someone fix that, it is not fitting that the Temple be in such disrepair. Stepping into the building, the Knight Commander removed his helm and pulled down his coif.

"Stay at the entrance, but do not deny anyone access." As the doors closed, as noisily as they had opened, Tarsius took a moment to center himself. So much was happening. The war, the nomads, the future was so uncertain. They fought an enemy that forced innocent civilians to fight, as if to subvert the Knights' mission. The Knights were called to protect the Rihad Confederation and because of it the Yokudans were coming. If the Order failed, the Yokudans would subjugate the people of the Confederation and kill all the Knights of the Nine that they'd find. And the other neutral states would either join them or suffer the same fate.

But isn't this similar to what Talos did, in unifying Tamriel? No, Talos was chosen by Akatosh, and brought order to all of Tamriel. These Yokudans are heathens, and their goals will not the same as Talos's. For the sake of the Nine, we must hold true against them.

Tarsius walked up to the shrine of Julianos. Having grown up in Skingrad, the God of Wisdom and Logic was his patron diety. And in uncertain times like this, he needed Julianos's wisdom. Kneeling at the altar, the Knight Commander uttered a prayer.



As the Knight Commander ended his prayer, he felt a strange sensation, something he had never experienced. He had felt the touch of Julianos and the other Divines before, but nothing like this. There was no mistaking it; he was having a vision. Fog surrounded him, obscuring everything. In front of him two figures slowly materialized. One was a Knight of the Nine, the other a warrior, not of the Order nor of the Legion nor of the Yokudans. The knight and the warrior seemed to converse but Tarsius could not hear them say anything. The conversation then ended and they turned away from each other, as if to go their separate ways. But the warrior turned around, drew his blade and stabbed the knight from behind. The knight fell to the ground, tried to draw his own blade in a vain attempt to fight back, then fell down dead. The warrior then withdrew his sword, covered from base to tip in blood. The fog thickened, causing the figures to fade from view, then subsided abruptly, and Tarsius found himself once again kneeling in front of the altar in the temple. After taking a moment for his senses to catch up, he slowly stood up and walked out the door.

One of the Diamond Guards spoke. "Commander, are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"I...had a vision from Julianos. Let's head back, I have much to think about."

Kraven Desselius and Shavaash Opress.

Kraven stood by as the pirate was defeated my the arcane arts of the Dunmer that was inside the room. What unfolded reminded him of a pirate saying. "Mages on a ship are bad luck." And sure enough, everything went from bad to disastrous with Kraven threatening a pirate to death and injury. And if his ears were not mistaken, he heard brief commotion upstairs as a pirate yelled of treachery. They are alerted to the slaying, Kraven realized as he gazed upon the Dunmer's power of Alteration. Everything was doomed from the beginning. Kraven grabbed hold of his spear and held it at his hand tightly. Shavaash saw this as a final decision for battle and he removed his scimitar from it's sheathe. He heard the Dunmer claim that they were not paying anything to the pirates. It was obvious from the start, Kraven thought. The Dunmer's treacherous actions proved the truth of what Kraven believed. He saw as the daggers went flying straight to a fleeing pirate and struck him in his most cherished of parts. Shavaash smiled, for this was the same pirate who began the insults.

"We are in ship. Ship still in sea." Shavaash reminded Kraven amidst the problems happening with the Dunmer and his victims.

"We take the ship." Kraven boldly stated.

"How?"

"There is but a single path...we kill them all." He finally concluded as he began running past the Dunmer and his friend to the upstairs. Shavaash followed closely, briefly glancing at the pirate who had a short-sword embedded in his arm. Right now it was the survival of the fittest. To each his own. But Shavaash wasn't sure how long it would remain that way. Pretty soon the land-goers would have to join forces to defeat the pirates. He thought back straight to Jacob! From the start he didn't trust him. But it was the irony that made the entire situation so compelling. Shavaash was the one not to be trusted. And so was Kraven. Even if they did not begin the slaughter, they still contributed to it. But the entire fault fell to Camille, for not keeping her crew mates in check. They know better than try to rectify the captain's decision of a free passage to Taneth. Shaavaash emerged from the bottom deck to see the Cyric and Morgana fighting alongside each other. One pirate was dead already. Shavaash came from behind a pirate and cut a swath toward his rib, drawing much blood as the pirate fell to his knees weakened by the blow. Shavaash followed his attack with a stab to his neck. An execution move he performed in the arenas.

Shavaash prepared himself for a fight, but Kraven had commanded him otherwise in a casual tone. "Shavaash. Hunt down the woman, Camille. Use her as leverage. If the pirates do not comply. You know what to do."

"We are taking control of this ship!" announced Kraven to the pirates. It also served as a notification to Cyric and Morgana. "Kill them all!"

He went into a defensive position against some of the other brave pirates who rushed into battle from below the deck as if the seas had spawned them. SHavaash went below deck to where the Dunmer was. He looked at them with a look of uncertainty, he didnt trust them. But this was a dire moment with most violent of situations.

"We take control of ship. Camille to be hostage!" Shavaash told them with a bloody scimitar.

Kraven remained above the deck where Morgana and Cyric where. His spear pointed at any pirate who dared venture forth and attack him. He briefly glanced at the two siblings before waving his spear around at every individual pirate. He was eager to win. This wasn't the arena, but the glory of battle was equal as to any match to the death. Knowing the pirates would not attack, Kraven roared and basked in the heat of battle as he did in the sun and he jumped forth to meet his fate.

Sentinel, War Room

Haroun was relieved at Bomlikar's arrival, especially since this was quiet his wife's disrest somewhat. He wished Bomlikar could stay to put Roxanna's mind at ease while Haroun campaigned, but his brother in law was also one of his most capable military commanders. As Bomlikar cut his own hand in a powerful display to prove his point, green eyes drifting to the blood which seemed to cover part of the land before him.

"If we were to die on the battlefield, one would hope our people rallied. If through treachery...the Empire would last a year perhaps, before collapsing upon itself." he spoke matter of factly, he tended to do this whenever he spoke personally with someone he knew well. No need to hide behind a facade.

"This is why we work to build the institution and infastructure until love for me becomes love for the Empire, Bomlikar. The forefathers of a united Hammerfell must create a system that can operate without specific leadership, it is why the Yokeda are the power and not the ministries." his hand drifted towards the map, floating just above where Bomlikar's blood now rested. A quick gust of wind brushed his hair from side to side and moved sand on the map, while an even quicker flash of light ignited the room to dissipate just as fast. The Elden Yokeda's hand now bled, dripping along with Bomlikar's.

"We will bleed for the Empire Bomlikar, we will bleed to see our people united...until all Ra Gada are under one banner. Our self genocide has gone too far. The Generals, merely give thought to what they believe the best course of action shall be, otherwise there would have been no purpose to this council. It is true, if each man were to follow the yearnings of his own heart, the accumilated savagery would make Oblivion pale in comparison, however these men each have showed and proved their worth, and loyalty to the ideals necessary for uniting us." Forebear and Crown, none of it mattered within the Empire, only within social circles. Of course like everywhere, you had traditionalists and factionalists, and at times the Elden Yokeda had called for the execution for more than one man during heated discussion...but only when things had become out of hand and a public display was necessary.

His thoughts drifted to Bomlikar's word about Roxanna and Andromeda...Roxanna would most likely become a figurehead until one of the Yokeda or Generals of prominence convinced her to marriage...or killed outright. Perhaps the best scenario would have been her becoming the Queen of Sentinel and whatever remnant still in agreeance with the Yokudan Empire's ideals. Or perhaps a better scenario would be for her to remarry in the Barca, withdrawing back to the desert which she missed. Andromeda on the other hand would not be better for any change, and the thoughts of someone attempting to hurt her caused a stirring in the High King's heart. The HoonDing pulled at this.

Haroun's face contourted into an intense expression of concentration.

"Do not fret Brother, the Domination has not begun yet."

In order to solidify any question as to his own...individual power as the Elden Yokeda, Haroun would have to become an absolute, dominating force. And because of this, lives would be taken.

"Roxanna misses you."

With ears only Haroun could hear, high pitched cackling echoed loudly.

Sentinel
Baibars Ayuub

The khan did not stay to mingle with the generals or the other Yokeda; he had no patience for discussion now, and Baibars always had trouble getting along with most of them in any case. Being a Yokeda and the khan of the second most powerful tribe in Hammerfell did not compensate for being a nomad among city-dwellers and some looked down on him for his background, while others were unwilling to get past the layer of mistrust and superstition that had formed over ages between wanderers and their settled kin. But he did not accept the High King's offer to become a Yokeda in this new world to seek favour and friendship from the nobility of Sentinel.

Now they all know. His thoughts swirled just as his flowing robe as Baibars hurried his step. Elegant though the palace might've been, he did not like to stay within its walls for long; after a while he would begin to feel like he was short of air, even though physically he was unaffected.

Do they see me now as an illness, a poison that plagues the Empire? Perhaps some will now say that my tribe should never have been allowed to become part of this new country, those same ones who grumble from the shadows that we sacrificed much less than others in the War of the Wolves, that our unwillingness to join the war from its beginning shows that we are not to be treated equally with those who fought throughout it all. Whether they think me deaf or they don't care if I hear matters little; they will not waste time in trying to convince others that the Ayuub tribe is weak now that my brother has done what he has. They will say that we hinder the war effort with our troubles... And truly, can I say they are wrong? Shirkuh holds my swordarm.

Finally, a gush of fresh air, as fresh as it got in the vast metropolis that was the Yokudan capital. A great many buildings stretched before Baibars as he left the palace, a true sea of houses, workshops, warehouses... Theatres and temples, towers and walls, it never ceased to amaze him, though the positive emotions lasted for only a short while before he again desired to leave Sentinel and return to the desert. In this way, the troubles within his tribe proved a blessing of sorts, for it gave him reason to keep away from the city. He didn't need to give his brother more cause to believe he had betrayed their traditions, anyway.

The khan's abode in Sentinel was a relatively short walk away from the palace. It wasn't particularly impressive, the house of a lesser nobleman he had purchased for its fortunate location. The man was all too eager to sell it off to the Yokeda, it probably had to do with the decline in family fortune that Baibars recalled being mentioned in passing during the inspection of the house. Whatever the case, the residence suited his purposes, and while it was a far cry from what some might've expected of someone of his position, he was entirely satisfied with it, as much as he could be satisfied with an urban dwelling.

When he arrived at the house, the khan's retinue of sorts was already waiting. Without a word, one of the sons led Baibars' horse up to him; with the agility of a man who had spent a very long time in the saddle, the Ayuub khan mounted his steed and motioned for his warriors to move out.

"We ride home."

The festivities do not require me. And I can only guess how many more insults to our traditions Shirkuh has added to the list of my 'crimes' in my absence...

Rithe, The Lusty Lady

There was a loud knock on the door and then the muffled voice of the aggressive Argonian that was tagging along with Arethan,

"Really? Is this some kind of joke? Who are you trying to keep out? If the pirates really wanted to get in, they have the key!"

I would rather have the pirates in here than you. Thought Rithe as Servyn stood and opened the door for him.

"I think it's time we get some rest." Said Rithe as he laid down upon the cot drifting into another one of his nightmares.

-------------------------------------------------------

Rithe leaped out of the cot instinctively drawing his dagger from it's sheath as a loud bang came from the door. Arethan woke and was obviously upset, he walked over and aggressively kicked the door off of it's hinges revealing the figure of a lone pirate. From the looks of it the pirate had been in an altercation with one of the other passengers aboard the vessel, the long haired Imperial from before.Servyn followed Arethan out the door, Rithe quick behind him. Arethan approached the helpless pirate,

"Go to hell." he growled as he readied his arm for a spell. However the pirate quickly grabbed a hold of it deflecting his hand. Arethan began to fight with the pirate, using alteration to form a spike glove out of his gauntlet.

Hmm interesting trick. Thought Rithe as he made his way into the battle. Rithe approached the nearest pirate who yelled with ferocity as he lunged towards him. Rithe quickly ducked out of the way of his cutlass, and then spun around impaling the dagger in the pirates neck just below the skull. The pirate fell limply to the ground as the one that Arethan had engaged let out a scream. Rithe turned to see Arethan electrocuting his victim. Servyn turned to the other inside the room,

"Let's get out of here. We aren't paying the pirates anything."

Servyn and Arethan then engaged a few of the other pirates below deck as another came through a hatch in the ceiling. The pirate rushed towards Rithe, however he was too slow. As the pirate swung at him Rithe deftly stepped to the side of the pirate grabbing his head and twisting it, with a loud pop the pirate fell to the floor. Rithe looked up towards the top of the deck as he heard one of the other pirates yelling about treachery.

Damn, we're going to have a mess on our hands. Thought Rithe as the Khajiit and Imperial passengers quickly ran up to the top of the deck. Moments later there were sounds of a fight and then the booming voice of the Imperial.

"We are taking control of this ship!"

Wonderful. Thought Rithe as he listened to the Imperial. A second later the Khajiit appeared below deck,

"We take control of ship. Camille to be hostage!"

Rithe quickly walked to the other side of the hull to where Arethan was,

"Arethan, we're getting off this ship. There's no use in joining this insurrection, I say we let them handle what they started."

Arethan, The Lusty Lady

Arethan's temper continued to whirl as he drew the ebony longsword from his side, using his right hand to swing it toward the next pirate viciously. Servyn watched as the victim attempted to retreat, only to be stopped by a few more pirates that had come from their quarters and lined up behind them, anxious to join in the violence. The sword began to teethe its way into the pirate's shoulder blade, digging deeper as the cry of the wounded began to grow louder. The Dark Elf's face continued to stain the air with anger, as a wisp of blue flame broke from his free hand, causing even himself to sweat. Servyn faltered back, retreating to the other side of the room. He let out a shout over the commotion.

"Damn that's hot!"

The blue colored flame began to consume the pirate's eyes, reducing his head and torso into a dish of burnt mesh, sticking to the floorboards as it collapsed. The other men before him jumped back in fear, a look of despair and flight overcoming their anxious expressions. Arethan held up the gauntlet given to him by a God, channeling magic through his entire body and out of his fingertips. A wave of frost let loose, leeching its way onto the door frame above the men. It was perhaps colder than anything most of the men had seen in some time, as they could now see their very breath before them. The last thing heard from the pirates was a deep scream, as the door frame and ceiling before them imploded, causing the material to pack itself together. The crunched foundation fell from above, revealing the next floor on the ship. More confused pirates looked down at the mage, wondering what had happened to cause such destruction.

Servyn looked back as the Khajiit approached him, holding the bloody scimitar in hand.

"We take control of ship. Camille to be hostage!"

Arethan ran back a few yards to where the rest of his companions were. A small alteration spell could be seen coming from his hand as he feathered himself, allowing his body to move at a faster speed. As Rithe approached them, Arethan sheathed his sword; however, his hands were still ready to fight, but only with his non-mundane weapon.

"Arethan, we're getting off this ship. There's no use in joining this insurrection, I say we let them handle what they started."

Arethan glared over at the assassin, gritting his teeth. He scowled.

"We're getting the hell out of here, and every last pirate on this ship will die!"

He looked towards the Argonian, his voice slightly less angry and more serious than before.

"Blow the wall to pieces, Swims. Sink this B*tch!"

Servyn nodded to his master, drawing his sword and heading up to the ship's deck. He motioned Arethan, Rithe, and Alaudis to follow. He took one last look at Swims from the top of the stairs.

"Swim out. We'll meet you on the water."

Sentinel, War Room
Bomilkar and Haroun

Bomilkar watched as their blood became one upon the map. So much blood had been spilt already, both foreign and domestic, the souls of the dead seemed to haunted Bomilkar's weary mind. During the War of the Wolves as it became known, Haroun seemed a far different person than he was now, more absolute and commanding, something that drew Bomilkar to his service in the first place. In the back of his mind Bomilkar could remember when Haroun would not hear of any type of decent, never hesitating to end the lives of the opposition like the old High Priest or that councilman who's name no longer even graced the annals of history, but now he was different...perhaps it was the birth of a daughter, or to have a family that took off the darker edge of the young King that had served him so righteously, like an obsidian blade against his foes. It mattered not, they all had a role in this play known as life, Haroun would be King of Hammerfell, the Prince of Light, and Bomilkar..Bomilkar was the Prince of Death, no, he was death. Like two sides of a coin it would appear that Bomilkar and his brother were destined to play opposite roles; While Haroun was cool, collected and resolute, Bomilkar was wild, unpredictable and full of passion, a passion that caused just as many problems as it did resolutions.

A sour look appeared upon his face for a brief moment before he accepted his destined fate, despite his opposition to it. Your will, my hands he thought, remembering his oath.

Upon hearing the name of his sister his mood increased and he cleansed his mind of all his previous thoughts. "It is to be expected." he began, attempting to issue control over his often uncontrollable emotions. "It has been a long time since we've been able to speak." no thanks to you he thought almost spitefully for a brief second. The past few years had been nothing but one bloody and brutal campaign after another. Subjugating, reinforcing, conquering, murdering, all of these things had filled the tragic years following the end of the war and Bomilkar had always been at the forefront, sword drawn and coated with blood.

"The God's have blessed the union of our houses with a beautiful child I hear, I hope to meet her soon." Bomilkar continued. "The God's have truly blessed you." he said, his eyes glancing to the ceiling and his palms faced up in reverence to the beings that pulled the strings of mortals like puppets on a stage.

"Roxanna is well I hope?"

Just off the coast of Stros Mkai
Grand Admiral Prothro'ra Donovan

The island city of Stros Mka'i was truly a sight to see, a shining jewel of Crown splendor resting upon the shimmering Abecean sea. It was in these very waters that Prince Ator met with the forces of Tiber Septim's Empire and beneath the shinning waters that brushed up against the hull of the massive warship lay a history of military might so rich that Donovan could never truly hope to match it. That was ages ago, in a time before the new advancements in military technology that so graced the hulls of the Yokudan warships that cut towards well fortified and bustling city harbor. Black Powder had renationalized the way war was fought on land, but it especially changed the way it was fought at sea; no longer were ships required to board each other and engage in hand to hand combat to win the day, they no long had to rely on archers or arbalests, but could deliver such a punishing blow from a distance that they could sink entire fleets with just a handful of ships. That was what they liked to tell themselves anyway. Grand Admiral Donovan's eyes moved from the gleaming city to the hulking ships that loomed around his rather small caravel, the largest warships being Sentillian Man O' Wars, the same he used to fight the Imperial Navy during the Siege of Sentinel nearly three years ago, surrounding them were various frigates and support ships, but by far the most impressive and intimidating was the http://www.themanyfacesofspaces.com/Zheng_He_ship_8.jpg, which was more of a floating city than a war ship.

The entire fleet seemed to sail in its looming shadow as nine sails, some the size of small ships, whipped in the wind above them. Even Donovan couldn't help but look in amazement of the finest Yokudan Warship ever constructed, its hull bristled with hundreds of cannons and the work by hundreds of sailors could be heard even over the flapping of sails. The old sea dog's attention was torn away from admiring his flag ship as the fleet came closer and closer to the cities port gates which opened up, revealing the full splendor behind them. A fitting port for a fitting fleet Donovan mused to himself as the fleet sailed into the harbor, flags raised high and trumpets bellowing out a victorious tune or another that drew onlookers from local military ships and fishing vessels alike.

Turning to the ships captain he began to speak. "We dock here, send someone to inform Lord Sobotai of my arrival..." As if anyone could ignore this Donovan smirked

Kraven Desselius, Lusty Lady

The pirates had no armor, but neither did Kraven. He attacked with the fury only a hunter blessed by Hircine could manage. His speed and his control over his spear was flawless. His body moved synonymous to his weapon as he cut a swath before him. Kraven took advantage of the wet deck by running full speed and sliding on it, one leg following the other as the center of his spear flipped two pirates over their firm footing. He spun his spear in the air and brought it down upon the closest scalawag, his spear impaling his back. The next pirate had found a fresh reserve of strength during his battle, and now he was attacking with a ferocity that seemed to have Kravem stymied. With quick, hard strokes of his cutlass, he bored into his adversary, deliberately engaging in close-quarters combat, refusing to let Kraven bring his double-edged weapon to bear. He drove Kraven backward about the end of the balcony, keeping the gladiator constantly on the defensive, pressing in on him steadily. Kraven's ragged face took on a frenzied look, and the glitter of his strange eyes brightened with uncertainty. Slowly, Kraven began to edge his way back into the fight, becoming the aggressor once more. The pirate thrust his sword forward to impale the long-haired man. Then Kraven parried a downstroke of his spear, whirled swiftly to the right, and with his back to the pirate, made a blind, reverse lunge. It was too late, the pirate recognized the danger. The tip of the Imperial's spear caught him directly in the midsection, its brilliant length sliding through clothing and flesh and bone. Kraven quickly removed the spear from the pirate's body, only to return a power-attack; A fiersome upper-cut punch that sent the pirate over the edge of the ship, falling into deep into the ocean.

Rithe, The Lusty Lady

Arethan glared at Rithe, his teeth gritted in anger as he replied,


"We're getting the hell out of here, and every last pirate on this ship will die!"

With his age I would not have expected him to make such a decision....this is something Rayden would have done. Thought Rithe as he nodded in agreement even though he was against massacring the pirates. Arethan then turned to Swims,

"Blow the wall to pieces, Swims. Sink this B*tch!"

Rithe gave him a puzzled look for a moment. The Servyn drew his sword and began to head back up to the top of the ship, motioning for the others to follow.

"Swim out. We'll meet you on the water."

Rithe sheathed his Daedric dagger and pulled The Ebony Blade from it's sheath. The blade itself was a masterpiece, forged from the blood of a Daedric prince it had the unmistakable shimmer of magick about it. Rithe followed Servyn in the other up stairs, as he emerged he saw the Imperial from before finishing off one of the pirates by throwing him off the side of the boat.

There was a loud shout from across the deck, Rithe quickly turned his head to see four pirates charging towards them. He placed his hand on Servyn's chest to hold him back,

"I'll handle these, you and the others get off the ship before Swims destroys it."

Rithe stepped forward hold his palm towards the group of pirates that were rushing towards them. There was a blinding flash of white light and a deafening crack as the magick flowed from Rithe's hand materializing into a white hot bolt of lightning. It shot forwards striking the first two pirates in their chests and continuing on to hit the captain's cabin, causing the corner of it to shatter and sent splinters of wood all across the deck. Rithe then sped forward with immense speed as he met one of the remaining pirates in the middle of the deck. The pirate swung his cutlass at Rithe, however it was met by The Ebony Blade before it could contact it's target. Rithe spun into the pirate and off to the side so that he was on his flank. He then took his blade and made a large incision in the pirates rib cage, blood poured onto the deck as the pirate screamed in pain. Then the second pirate took a swing at Rithe who once again parried the attack with his blade. Rithe kicked the pirate in the chest sending him backwards across the deck.

Rithe lunged forward executing a relentless flurry of attacks with such speed that his sword was but a blur. Almost every hit landed, eviscerating the pirates torso and limbs. When Rithe finished the pirate fell to the deck, bleeding out of his multiple wounds.

Alaudis Archen - Aboard The Lusty Lady
---


The blood. The fire. The destruction. The death.
It was happening again, he was back in High Rock, on the battlefield of a razed city, only he wasn't actually there. Alaudis watched with a morbid helplessness. There was nothing he could do, nothing but watch. His older brother, Belarus, sat tall and regal in the saddle of a beautiful black sumpter horse. The hot sun and raging flames flicked and glinted off his polished brown plate mail. A steel bastard sword was clutched in his powerful grasp. A ragtag band of soldier, mercenaries, and mages stood before him. The final few of a hardened company of men who had fought to defend an attack on the mages guild. From the outskirts of town, from all sides, rebel conjurers and necromancers flooded through the destroyed city walls, bringing armies of summoned daedra and the walking dead with them. It was a horrendous sight to any man, no matter where he had been or what he had seen.

"I'm sure that many of you men are fighting for different reasons," His brother's voice was thick, deep, and powerful. It was the voice of a warrior, a leader, a conqueror. "Many of you look for fame, glory, or wealth. Some of you fight to defend what is yours, and others still for duty, and for honor. Let it be known that your reasons for fighting are no longer of consequence. What matter here and now is the brotherhood that battle has bestowed upon each and every one of you. The men you stand next to you may have never met in your life, but make no mistake, they will defend you with their lives. And I charge every one of you with the duty to do the same for them!"

A thundering cheer erupted from the defenders as Belarus thrust his sword into the air. "May the gods guide us in battle. Charge the enemy!" He roared as his horse reined up on it's back legs and dashed forward. The small score of footmen rushed in behind him.

A flash, and everyone was gone. Everybody but Belarus, kneeling over a young Bosmer in a tattered and bloody yellow robe. One sleeve was shredded and ripped off halfway down, as was the arm that it had covered. Agony gripped at his face, tears ran down his cheeks as he stared up at the Bretic knight above him. "Captain... they never said it'd be like this. They never said..." As the young man's eyes rolled back and his head fell into the dirt, Belarus' clenched his jaw. The sight of him, a son, a brother maybe, laying dead on the charred ground moved him heavily. Slowly rising to his feet, Belarus gripped the hilt of his blade tightly, and slid the visor of his greathelm over his eyes. From out of the crushed and burnt rubble, three men emerged. Two of them robed in black, red skulls painted on their chests, and the other in blue, hafting a wooden staff with sparks of electricity flying from the end. All emotion had left Belarus' body, all besides an anger that had become a raging fury. "You filthy, wretched, murderous warlocks! I'll cut you all down in your tracks and feed your entrails to the hounds!"

With a ruthless cry of blazing hatred, Belarus rushed toward the conjurer, and with a two-handed overhead slash from the right, half the mage's torso was sliding apart from the other as a grizzly splatter of blood poured from his mortal wound. He wasted no time in pursuing the next opponent, as a whirling violet tendril escaped the necromancer's palm and formed into a walking skeleton with a silver sword. Belarus reached forward with a lobstered plate gauntlet and gripped the abomination by the face. His powerful hand gripped into a fist and sent fragments of shattered bone flying as it's skull collapsed. The source of it's conjuring was wrought with fear, and it showed in his face and the wet stain between his legs. His friend was smart, and had taken off running at some point.

"You will regret the day you decided to rebel! And when you burn in Oblivion you will remember the name of the man of who put you in your place! I am Belarus Archen, and you have evoked my wrath!"

In a matter of seconds, a shower of red rain flew from his blade as it cut over and over again, and soon only a pile of sliced limbs and body parts stood before him.

Alaudis began to shake with fear, and dropped to his knees. He had seen this very same scene hundreds of times, and he knew exactly what was coming. Every time, no matter what, he was never prepared to handle what came next. Belarus stood alone, his shoulders rising and falling heavily in deep breaths, as a horde of horrendous beasts and their masters approached and enveloped him.

He awoke with a girlish scream, took a deep breath of the cold, musty air and rubbed a hand across his sweating face. In a flash of a second, the door was bursting open. Arethan leaped from his bunk to run his sword through a pirate. Alaudis' heart leapt, and so did he, Out of bed, he began hastily throwing on his armor, strapped on his sword belt, and strung his bow over his shoulder. Ripping the dagger from his waist, he followed his companions to the upper deck. As his head emerged from the stairway out into the night, his helmet was immediately struck by a blunt steel cutlass. His hardened glass helmet was more than enough to protect his skull from injury, but his ears rang loudly and he felt rather disoriented. In a quick reaction, he planted his hand on the deck and vaulted upward, twisting his body and thrusting his dagger into the pirate that had struck him. The razor sharp silver blade sliced cleanly into the swashbuckler's tanned skin, and Alaudis shoved hard against his limp body, sending it hurtling into the ocean below.

"Arethan! What the hell is going here, what are we going to do!?" Confusion was all Alaudis had known since he met his companions. Confusion, perplexity, and wonder.

Sentinel, War Room

The Elden Yokeda looked to Bomlikar, observing his expression with some amusemant, he smirked and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder, unaware to what Bomlikar was thinking. At mention of Andromeda, Haroun could not help but think they had been at war his daughter's entire lifespan. Even more so, he had always been so preoccupied with stratagems, designing conquests, fighting off hordes of the enemy to never really allow his brother in law a reprieve, not even to see his niece.

At this guilt, his green orbs darted downwards, "Bomlikar, I'll have your usual room prepared. I'll have Roxanna arrive to meet you, Andromeda in tow. Its time you met your niece." he straightened himself, looked the Khan in the eye, "My wife has been wonderful, missing the desert but awfully shrewd and talented at administration. Each day she dazzles the court with the latest fashion and trends, charming the Lord and Lady alike." he lied. Roxanna while trying to uphold a facade of smiles has done nothing but worry for her husband and brother, both constantly at war but the former far more so. She looked so forward to seeing Bomlikar for months, only to learn Haroun had sent him on some task. To his wife he lied, Bomlikar having some important business as a Yokeda in the area, but it usually involved the eradication or destruction of some unruly tribe or village.

"Go to your room, clean up and rest. I'll have the girls sent to visit." he wore the false smile he used for court, and for those who he would send to their deaths soon. But it was only given because while Haroun loved his brother in law, both men had shared too much and been so busy he found his company tiresome if overdrawn. Roxanna and Andromeda would ease his mind.

Friendship and family were best in small doses for men who had nothing in common but conquest and building an Empire.

"Peace be with you, Bomlikar."

He began to leave, pausing for a moment in hesitation, something he wanted to say. Shaking his head against it he continued on his way.

----------------------------------------------------
Sentinel Palace, Halls

Azael paced through the halls, fully armored and masked Tervola to his side, the maroon armor and black cloaks flailing behind them. The Swordsingers held onto their blades, the Ansei who walked before them had none to hold, striding confidently down the hall...until yes, he found her.

"Ashanta, the Yokeda Bomlikar requires you within his apartment. Tend to his needs, in an hour Queen Roxanna and the Princess Andromeda will want to see him." he eyed her appraisingly, he found her competence and dedication to work admirable, a year older than he, he understood what it was like being thrust into positions of prominence when you were so young. It was not easy being the personal attendant to the Imperial family, nor was it any easier being the head of the personal guard.

Azael was often mistaken for being serious, or too professional. He was very aloof and lively whenever off duty, but when exactly was the Head of the Tervola off duty? His rest and off days were very far and in between. His mind drifted to how busy it had been since Haroun returned, things seemed so much easier, simpler...and enjoyable when he had to tend only to the Queen. He enjoyed watching her, and protecting her far more than the Elden Yokeda.

OOC: In between the madness of trying to lead Holland to German supremacy, I think I can make a post

Thespides, Castle Anvil

"Mother, we've been over this time and again," the Count groaned as his mother's frown deepened, "Father has made his wishes quite clear that he wants me in Hammerfell."

Milona Umbranox hung her head, looking down at his lap in which there was a bit of embroidery. Her fingers had fallen idle when her son had come in, and while she was normally quite able to talk and embroider at the same time, her son's compliance to his father's wishes was taking up all her attention.

"But I so rarely get to see you," Milona said as she raised her head again, "First you're out overseeing the rebuilding of Crowhaven for weeks at a time, then you gallop off to Chorrol for a hunting trip. Then when you finally DO come home, you take your father's comment that the situation in Hammerfell needs monitoring as him telling you that you're his emissary!"

"He wouldn't have told me privately if he didn't want me there, mother," Thespides said absently, quickly tiring of his mother's clinginess, "If I can influence the events, even in the slightest, in Anvil's interests, my time their will have been well-spent. Mother, the wellbeing of Anvil is more important than anything right now. We're strong, but we're also a target."

"I know that," Milona murmured, seeing she was losing the argument, "Can you at least stay till the end of the week?"

"I expect to. Thana will be coming with me, and she doesn't get back from her little archaeological expedition until Loredas."

Milona perked up to hear this. "You're taking that bastard with you?"

"Yes, I'm taking my sister with me."

Ignoring her son's pointed comment, she rose from her seat and moved over to her son to hug him. "Your father and Aneria get home tonight from Skingrad, and they'll be expecting a feast. Will you go down to the kitchen and inform the cooks?"

"Of course, mother, anything you want."

Ashanta, Sentinel Royal Palace.

Ashanta was tending to her daily duties with loyal dedication, cleaning the halls of the palace to the point where it was almost spotless. Although her position was less noble of sorts, she still felt responsible for the healthy appearance of the palace. Her mind buzzed with the topic of war and battle that was recently discussed in the War Room. The only thing that snapped her out of her servant duty was fully armored man with a masked individuals to his side. A heavy cloak trialed behind him. It was Azael. He spoke to her of new arising work in the royal grounds.

"Ashanta, the Yokeda Bomlikar requires you within his apartment. Tend to his needs, in an hour Queen Roxanna and the Princess Andromeda will want to see him."

Ashanta bowed slightly to Azael. He was of higher rank than her and she offered her most respect. "Azael," she said as she left the halls to make her way to Bomlikar's apartment. Her presence was required and expected, so she hurried her way to his quarters in quick but measured steps to not seem desperately needy to get work done. Her face was simple and emotionless, but her heart swelled with the thought of work. Hopefully...there shall be more to this duty of cleaning, Ashanta thought. But she understood that asking for something higher than her station was too much. She had to learn to be humble. Something her father wasn't. He was prideful, too much in his own way that he ignored his own daughter's desires and pleas. So caught up in the relic he called "tradition" that he forsook his own daughter's place at his home. There was only one person who was there for her. A single man who showed her the unconditional love that she so deserved. A man of influence and romantic notion. He was the only one who gave her something to live for.

The young redguard traversed the beautiful halls of the wondrous establishment. Gleaming colors of gold and exotic paintings reminded her of her old heritage. She felt a small twinge of pride as she walked with her hands behind her back. After exploring the marvelous palace grounds, Ashanta at last reached the Bomlikar's quarters. She knocked at the door, keeping her head down in reverence. She awaited an answer or a command to enter.


****

Draken Decumus Vladmirius, Sentinel apartment.

Draken paced around his room. Thinking of the situation at hand. He was deep in thought for the majority of the day. Something was going on in the Imperial City behind the scenes of mortals. Why did the Order require my presence in Hammerfell? Draken asked himself. And after a few moments, the answer came to him. Because they do not need me meddling in vampiric affairs bacin in Cyrodiil. They do not care what goes on with the Yokudans or the Knights of the Nine for that matter. They wanted him gone for past mistakes in hope to avoid having history repeat itself. He remembered he had almost exposed the Order to the world a century ago. An Order that the Empire itself had no idea exists, but simply it’s members. Apparently they did not forgive him for his lack of discretion. Why waste my time in this sun forsaken land? Draken thought. The Order only cared of such things that was of concern, the well-being of their members and immortal society as a whole instead of the daily problems of mortal issues. True, they did involve themselves among men but only to watch if their destinies would interfere with those of the cyrodilic vampires. The Empire is in shambles and that meant that someone would have to aid in it’s recovery--no matter how strong or weak that recovery may be. Only for the benefit of those who live their lives by Molag Bal and Clavicus Vile.

If only he had been more intelligent like his others of his kind. His rival sibling was the best example of the Order’s success. She had created a vast web of spies and informants, however Draken had no idea as to its true range, or even how to contact them. His sister had put into motion a hundred long-range plans to slowly build the Order’s strength while weakening the other rival clans. Yet Draken was only just now beginning to understand the scope of her political machinations.

His sister was a visionary, able to glimpse ahead into the future. She understood how to exploit the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of any enemy force. She knew how to draw the eyes of the Empire away from the Order and it‘s existence to the point where the Order was merely a legend to frighten children. She could manipulate individuals, organizations, and politicians, planting seeds of discord that would lay dormant for years, even-decades-before they grow forth. Draken was merely a tool to make it happen. But not any longer. During his stay in Hammerfell, he would attempt to build and forge alliances in case they rose too powerful. He would be there to watch and study the large forces of the world and when the time came, he would be powerful enough to shape critical moments of reality. But for now he had to remain hidden, his intentions covered by shadow. His motives for action shrouded in secrecy…that was the way of the Order. And he would use that to his advantage. There were many things he did for Them, but now it was for himself.

He walked around the room impatiently that some would claim he would make a circle onto the floor. Draken's tongue called for blood. His throat was as dry as the Alik'r. But his powers were increased to nightmarish properties. His skill with Destruction, Blade, Hand to hand was increased. As well as his senses and awareness, but at a price. His eyes were red as the blood he so craved and his skin was as cold and pale as alabaster stone. There was one thing he could to rectify the situation. A vampire who wanted to utilize the true range of their abilities would be forced to endure the horrific agony of blood starvation and inability to blend in with mankind: nothing without a cost. And that is why you will be of benefit to me, Draken thought as he lifted his newly purchased Yokudan mask. He smiled to himself, fangs extending down from his jaw. When night arrives, it is my time again. And I will not fail.

The Lusty Lady
Camille Leon

Camille was chatting with Jacob, Behleez, and Daphne Buckingham when she heard the bloodcurdling scream ring out from below deck. Immediately sensing something was wrong, she told Behleez to start preparing an escape boat. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, she thought. She didn’t quite know why; her crew was full of very experienced warriors, so whatever could be causing trouble probably didn’t stand a chance. But her gut feeling was that things had gone downhill very quickly, and that they could be in danger. So she quickly ran to her cabin and got her chest of emergency funds. She put it into the escape boat Behleez was preparing, and directed him, Jacob and Daphne to lower the boat and get away from the ship.

“What about you?” they asked. Camille just waved off their question and said, “I’ll catch up. Just go. Now” They hesitated for a moment, and then followed her orders. Camille watched them as they started paddling away, and then turned her attention back to the trouble on the ship, and watched angrily as several of her crew were murdered by the landlubbers they had picked up. She drew Natasha and almost started to join the fight, but then one of the younger crewmembers, a young teenage street-rat named Riana, ran up to her.

Riana was very distressed, and she held a dagger in her hand. She was out of breath, but clearly was trying to tell Camille something. Camille, beginning to get worried, asked, “Hey, Ri, what’s happened?” Riana took a couple deep breaths and replied in between gasps, “The . . . passengers . . . they’re killing everybody! Erik . . . Randon . . . Aten . . . Travis . . . they’re all dead!”

Camille frowned angrily, her left hand forming a tight fist. “I can see that. But why?” she asked forcefully.

“I don’t know!” Riana replied frantically. Tears started to drop down her face, and she was breathing in only quick breaths, almost hyperventilating, and so Camille put her arm around her.

“Hey,” she said. “Everything’s going to be all right.” She walked the younger girl over to the edge of the ship, trying to stay aware of anybody that could be walking up behind her and pointed to the small boat Jacob was in. “You just swim out there to that boat, kay? Behleez, Jacob and Daphne are out there. Can you do that?” Riana wiped her eyes and nodded. Camille smiled and said, “That’s my girl. Now, you just hurry up and swim out there, and I’ll take care of things here.” Riana nodded again, and started climbing down the side of the ship towards the sea below. Once she was in the water and swimming towards the boat, Camille twirled back around, allowed the smile to slide off her face, and began observing the battle that was becoming increasingly worse for her boat. She started pacing back and forth across the deck, twirling Natasha in small circles by her side.

Several pirates came running towards her from the fight after about a minute. “Cap’n!” the first yelled. “They’re massacring us! We need to retreat!”Camille simple shook her head and replied, “No. Sabotage the other escape boats, and then head back in. We can’t let these landlubbers take The Lady without a fight!” The pirates were silent for a moment, but then nodded and followed her orders. After they had finished and headed back into the fight, she let her anger come to the surface. The snarl that grew on her face as she paced back and forth, watching the intruders, marred her features, turning her normally beautiful face into the face of a cold-blooded killer. But she didn't care. She was going to enjoy killing the fools who thought they could take her baby from her. Come on. Try to fight a real challenge, she thought as she stared at the intruders.

Rithe, The Lusty Lady

Rithe turned his head towards the others to see the Breton name Alaudis emerge from the deck and shout,

"Arethan! What the hell is going here, what are we going to do!?"

Then he quickly turned his head the other way as he heard a loud bang of a hatch violently opening echo across the deck. His eye's widened slightly as an extremely large Redguard pirate crawled up from below the deck. His skin was black as night and bore heavy scars. The large Redguard carried a sword that reflected his own size in one hand and a chain in the other. The juggernaut like figure let out a laugh as he began walking across the deck towards Rithe.

[censored].

Rithe dashed from one side of the deck to the other as the giant Redguard swung the chain over his head and towards Rithe. It wrapped itself around the mast of the ship as Rithe dropped to his knees and slid under it across the damp deck. He spun around to face the pirate, channeling magicka to his hand he shot a freezing ball of condensed ice at the chain which immediately froze solid. However the monstrous Redguard jerked the chain with immense force, shattering the crystals that kept it rigid, then rushed towards Rithe swinging his massive steel sword at where he stood. Rithe dove out of the way as it came crashing down on the deck. Rithe sheathed The Ebony Blade and quickly pulled the bow from his back, nocking an arrow and firing it at the pirate as it rushed towards him one again. The Daedric arrow embedded itself in the pirates shoulder.

"Arrrrgghhhh!!!!." he yelled as he ripped it from his arm, blood trickling down his chest.

Dammit, this guy is tough. Thought Rithe as he quickly fired two more arrows at the enormous pirate, both striking him in his sword arm. Rithe replaced the bow and drew his dagger once again as the pirate lunged forward swinging the heavy chain towards Rithe's head. Rithe quickly ducked once again as the chain crashed into the wooden railing of the stairs next to the captain's cabin. The pirate yanked the chain backwards and swung it towards Rithe once more with enough force to crack the skull of even the toughest man. Rithe raised his palm and grappled the chain with a telekinetic grip, slowing it down as it neared his hand. Rithe grabbed a hold of the chain, channeling his magicka through it he rapidly heated the it until it glowed white hot. The Redguard yelled in agony as the skin on his hand liquefied.

The pirate, now extremely angry, let out a loud war cry as he charged towards Rithe, his sword held above his head ready to cleave the assassin in two. Rithe let another ball of ice fly from his palm towards the wet deck of the ship, the water instantly solidified as the magicka fused with it. The giant's size now became his enemy as he lost his balance on the slippery film of ice and came crashing down upon the deck. As the Redguard tried to get back onto his feet Rithe rushed forward, leaping onto the back of the pirate. He impaled his dagger into the rippling muscles of the pirates back, who in return yelped in pain and violently tossed Rithe from his back and onto the deck of the ship.

Rithe let out a quick gasp of pain as he came down on his back with a resonating thud. As he was regaining his composure he noticed the Redguard had stood back up and was running towards him once again.

Will this guy ever die? He thought as the Redguard neared. If I can't beat him in open combat then I need to find a way to take advantage of his weaknesses.

The pirate pulled his massive claymore like sword into the air to deal a death blow to Rithe, however when he brought the sword down upon the spot where the assassin had been it struck nothing but a misty black smoke.

"What in Oblivion is this." Grumbled the pirate angrily as he pulled the sword from the wooden planks of the deck. Then suddenly he screamed in pain as a large laceration opened upon his chest, blood poured from the wound as he staggered backwards. The pirate franticly looked around the deck for the source of the attack, then his eyes fell on the little ripples in a puddle of water. He laughed as he approached them,

"I may not be able to see you little mage but I know where you are."

There was a little splash from the puddle and then there were no more footsteps. The Redguard looked around again, searching for where Rithe had gone. Then there was a misty haze upon the bottom crossbar of the main sail, and Rithe's form materialized as it fell from the mast and landed on top of the large Redguard. His dagger embedded itself deep in the neck of the pirate as the two crashed down upon the deck, Rithe gave the dagger a sharp twist before pulling it from the body and replacing it in it's sheath. Blood poured out of the gaping hole in the Redguard's neck as Rithe stepped off of him.

EDIT: Major typos.

Shavaash Oppress, Lusty Lady.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ecr8i-bPNmg

Shavaash was no assassin, but he did his best to keep himself hidden for the time being. He had the blood of a hunter coursing through his veins, but even a Lycanthrope was susceptible to death and injury. He walked below the deck of the gargantuan ship, his bloodied scimitar in hand. He stomped down the narrow corridor of the deck below, kicking door for door in search of Jacob and Camille. But to no avail. He swore he heard crying in the room above. Shavaash's features darkened as his goals were clear. He ran across the wooden hall past crates and barrels. Yet he heard shouting emerging from the corner ahead. The warrior khajiit had no choice but to hide in the room nearby. He opened the door and vaulted inside, closing it behind his back and waiting until the rushing sound of angry pirates swept past the room and to deck below. He took a peek and saw them run by. Waiting a minute, Shavaash jumped from his hiding place and continued his march upon the ship, searching for his prey and failing. But the sound above was even louder than before, he was close...very close. And if he wasn't mistaken, he listened to a very female voice give command. It must be Camille, Shavaash realized.

“No. Sabotage the other escape boats, and then head back in. We can’t let these landlubbers take The Lady without a fight!”

The comment sent Shavaash's heart race. His blood thirsted for a hunt and a fight! The captain sounded angry...furious as expected. Kraven knew she would be a worthy opponent for his caliber. The thought of flesh being stripped from bone made him hurry past the ship's interior with no thought to hide if a greater enemy number approached. His hearth began to thump faster within his briast. Louder than the sound of battle drums. He gripped his scimitar even tighter and began sprinting as he heard the pirates above. The bottom of his foot cried thunder as he raced to meet his prey. Shavaash was not a former gladiator...not at the moment. He was a hunter. After a few turns, he finally reached the door where the most sounds came from. He arrived upstairs on the deck. He listened and heard the pirate captain speak. Shavaash lifted his leg and gave the door a powerful kick. The door busted open wide and revealed Camille within. The khajiit warrior snickered his abnormally sharp teeth and stepped in. His clawed hand gripping the hilt of his scimitar.

"Surrender. No fight. Try to fight. You die." warned Shavaash in poor basic. Camille did not appear in the mood to surrender, he knew he was in for a fight of his life.

The Lusty Lady

Shock. Dismay. Irritation. Waves of all three washed over Swims-in-Shadows in quick succession, alternating and replacing each other every few seconds. He couldn't believe that Arethan would fly off the handle at something so small as someone being thrown into the door. One moment, the Argonian was ready to spout off some sardonic comments to his companions about locking him out of the room, and the next, they were all charging out into the ship's corridors and decks, slaughtering pirates indiscriminately. It was simply astounding to the Argonian that a quick brawl between Kraven, Shavaash, and some pirates would escalate into a battle to the death for control of the ship. What the hell is wrong with them all? Arethan especially! What in the name of Oblivion does he think he's doing!

"Blow the wall to pieces, Swims. Sink this [censored]!" ordered Arethan before charging out of the room and into the brawl.

"Swim out. We'll meet you on the water." followed up Servyn as he drew his sword and led Alaudis and Rithe off the ship

"Oh, really?" muttered the Argonian, his bitter sarcasm evident, although no one was around to hear it. "I was just planning on sinking to the bottom with it. It's a good thing our fearless leaders know what I should do!"

He placed the palm of the gauntlet to the ship's hull, his glass-encased fingers firmly pressed to the wooden surface. Swims followed his right hand with his left, holding the magical ring to the back of his gauntlet. He braced himself for the confusion that would soon come.

The gauntlet's magical vibrations took hold of the ship as they had so many others in Sentinel's harbor years ago. The shaking would be felt through the whole ship as cracks ran erratically away from the gauntlet along the surrounding ares of the hull, the wood groaning under the horrible force. Falling objects could be heard in the cargo hold below, and water began to leak through the cracks. Swims heard footsteps at the room's door over the sound of the collapsing wood and commotion and turned to look at the source. Two pirates, a Redguard and an Imperial, stormed into the room, cutlasses in hand.

"That must be the bastard shaking the ship!" shouted the Imperial. Looking nervously at the cracks in the hull, some of which stretched over four feet by this point, the two pirates hesitated for a moment and charged.

That moment of hesitation was all that Swims needed to complete his plans. The bandit released the hull from his assaults, taking the ring off the gauntlet and jumping to the left just as the planks of the Lusty Lady finally gave out, and water poured into the sleeping quarters with tremendous force. The hole was easily six feet in diameter, and water roared into the gap, knocking the pirates onto their backs five feet from Swims-in-Shadows. They were both pinned to the floor by the onrushing cascade, although Swims could see them trying to escape by pushing themselves across the floor on their backs. The room's water level rose fast as the hole in the hull widened another foot or so, the green seawater reaching up to the Argonian's knee.

"Good luck!" said Swims triumphantly as he hurled himself into the wall of water, forcing himself out of the ship. It took tremendous effort to swim against such a strong current, but the Argonian was an expert at such things, and after a moment's struggle, he was a few feet outside of the ship, watching the water flood in. He took but a moment's pause before setting off towards the front of the ship, swimming with incredibly alacrity thanks to his expertise and hydrodynamic form. I'm going to need to put a hole in the front if I want to sink this thing fast.

The Lusty Lady
Camille Leon

Camille watched with dismay as Bandac, who was easily the strongest and toughest member of the crew, fell to a Dunmer in dark clothing. He put up a fight, but was still outsmarted by the Dunmer, and fell. And, Camille sadly recognized as she gazed around the ship, he was simply one of many. Nobody stood a chance against the intruders. Maybe they would’ve under normal conditions, but it was obvious some of them had just woken up, and most were still hung-over from the previous night. She closed her eyes briefly, thinking, I’m sorry guys. You will be avenged, I swear.

And then she heard a loud noise that was the obvious noise of a door being kicked opened. She opened her eyes, and saw a snickering Khajiit approaching her, scimitar in hand. She took a deep breath as the cat-man said, "Surrender. No fight. Try to fight. You die." Camille cocked her head and looked at the Khajiit for a moment as she tried to understand his broken Cyrodiilic. “‘No fight. Try to fight.’? So do you want me to fight or not? Make up your mind, kitty,” she quipped as her left hand slowly moved to the knives on her leg. She remembered how she was always taught to throw knives in pairs; one knife at the target, the other slightly to the side, because people always try to dodge.

However, just as she was about to throw the knives, the ship started to shake underneath her, throwing her off balance. “Dammit!” she cursed as she quickly regained her stance. They’re sinking the ship! Dammit, dammit, dammit! I’m going to have to leave my baby behind, she realized sadly. But then she refocused on the Khajiit, and performed the throwing knife maneuver she was going to earlier. She threw one knife at the Khajiit’s left pectoral, and then the other just to his right. She wasn’t sure if they were going to hit, so she dropped into a combat stance, and readied both Natasha and herself for the upcoming fight.

Shavaash Oppress & Kraven Desselius, Lusty Lady.

Shavaash was being mocked! He listened intently as the pirate subtlety refused to surrender due to his poor speech. He growled at the woman, despite the situation. He approached her slowly, growling like an enraged animal until the shocking realization came to him. The ship was sinking! Shavaash's eyes widened at the reality of the fact. The Lusty Lady shook and wobbled and felt as if it were falling How? he thought. Just as he lost his attention, Camille attacked him with two knives. He attempted to jump clear of one, but it struck him straight in the chest. The other hitting him in the arm as he tried to move away. The khajiit yelped in pain as both of his muscles were impaled. He swore himself an idiot for being distracted at his surroundings. This caused much ferocity in Shavaashe's mind, so much that he yanked away the bloody knife from his body and prepared for an attack. He felt slightly weaker than before as blood poured from his wound. But he would fight anyway. Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps even it was overconfident. He wasn't sure how skilled she was with a blade, but he was about to discover what Camille was made of and maybe learn a thing or two about himself in the process. The muscular khajiit jumped in the air and roared at the top of his lungs and rained down a slam with his scimitar toward Camille.


****
The Lusty Lady was going to sink. Kraven's plans for control was futile, but it sufficed. He forced his gaze away from the battle and onto the ocean. We are still at sea, Kraven thought the obvious, How are we going to escape? The Imperial looked around for Shavaash and saw that his friend was no where to be found. He had to locate him and attempt to find a way off the drowning ship. As Kraven ran, he began to feel it shake. He stumbled and nearly fell over, he saw off the edge a figure swimming underneath the water in the same exact spot where the bubbles were floating to surface. Although it was too murky for him to discern what race the individual was. Since it seemed it could hold it's breath, Kraven suspected it was argonian, however he wasn't counting on it. Just as he looked back to the battle, he saw two pirates charge at him despite the current predicament of the vessel. The first pirate lunged with desperate measures, his cutlass out to gouge eye Kraven's eyes. The Imperial twisted his head around and dodged the blade just in time, yet he failed to avoid the other short-sword that pierced the side of his leg. The long-haired man shouted in pain as he began to limp to safety. He wasn't quick enough.

"Ye gonna sink with the ship, land-loving cur!" The pirate shouted.

Kraven gritted his teeth in both pain and frustration. He felt his spear slipping away from his fingers, but tried his best to keep it in his hand. The buccaneers stared at him briefly, savoring the moment of his suffering. He could only do what he had to. Survive. The greatest vestiges of vitality blossomed from within Kraven like fire licking the flames of dry wood. He gathered the last of his strength for a final stand. The first pirate attacked, with his friend following close behind. The wounded Imperial held up his spear and struck against the pirate's groin. The redguard shouted in agony as Kraven slid away his weapon, eyeing the injured enemy carefully before he collapsed. The next, larger pirate growled and accelerated his lunge toward the Imperial, who rolled to safety as his leg continued to bleed. Kraven spat blood from his cracked lip and looked out onto the sky before returning gaze to the big nord pirate. His arms were long and muscular, he had a look of a bear to him. His eyes were as blue as the water. But his sword as large and ice colored.

"I might die today by your blade," Kraven began "But I will bring you down with me. And my jaws will forever bite at your heel in the afterlife of Hircine's blessed grounds!"

The pirate looked at Kraven as if he were a lunatic. He did not understand nor cared what the Imperial spoke about. And so he charged at Kraven. The Imperial expected the pirate to come at him aggressively, but even so he was caught by surprise by the ferociousness of his attack. The nord began with a series of two-handed overhead chops, using his massive height to bring his blade chopping down at Kraven from above. The Imperial easily blocked each of the relentless blows, but the intensity of the crushing impact caused him to stagger back, throwing him off of his balance as the ship sunk even more.

Kraven recovered quickly, however, spinning out of the way when the nordic man followed up with a low, swooping swipe meant to cut him off at the knees. Kraven retaliated with a quick stab with the tip of one the spear's end toward the nord's face, but the albino pirate ducked his head to the side and returned with a wide-bashing, single-handed slash at the level of the chest. Kraven intercepted the man's blade with his own weapon, angling his spear so that the momentum of
the nord's strike was redirected downward, sending the sharp edge of his sword into the deck. This should have made the pirate vulnerable to a counter-thrust, but he was already reacting to Kraven's move, driving his entire massive body straight into him before he could bring his spear up. The nord's heavy weight made of muscle slammed into the Imperial, knocking him back as the nord snapped his neck ahead. Kraven threw his head back in precise time, and the head-butt that would have crushed his face smashed off hiw chin instead. Scrambling to stay on his feet, Kraven raised the spear back up, twirling the center so that the spinning bends formed a defensive move that repelled the nord's next half a dozen strikes.

The Imperial was losing. As the nord began sensing his opponent's faltering strength, Kraven began to dwell on his lover; Her beautiful face, her lithe body...her worry that Kraven would never return home from his trip. He found himself imagining her dismay at her thinking of her man's fate. No one would notify her that Kraven Desselius had perished in a sinking pirate ship off the coast of Rihad. The prospect of failing his wife gave Kraven an edge to his survival. He growled loudly, as if it granted him power. He used all of his supernatural strength and attacked the nordic buccaneer in an offensive display of prowess.

"I will see you again..." Kraven told himself as he gathered his strength.

Kraven Desselius was unrelenting in his attacks. He appeared as if to wield five blades rather than a spear, he struck with a odd rhythm designed to keep the nord foe off of his balance, coming in with one blade high and the other low at the same moment, striking from opposite places at peculiar and opposing angles. The nord had no choice but to fall behind....and behind...and behind. Kraven was fighting now with a single purpose: Escape with his life as victor and a survivor. One fact gave him the strength to pursue in the center of overwhelming odds; His Lycanthropy. Kraven raised the spear up above his head, spinning it so quick it was but a blur, then he jumped at the nord. One point of his spear came down in a fearsome overhead strike that the nord parried with ease. But the strike was only a feint, setting up a slashing strikes at the waist from the opposing end. The nord was too slow to counter-attack against the maneuver, and so he failed to block the spear slashing towards his naked chest. He cried as the sharp spear sliced into his flesh. Kraven took the opportunity to throw his head forward into a head-butt. His forehead striking his enemy's face. The cartilage of his nose sounded off with a sickening crunch, a sprinkle of blood gushing out forth. Defeated and dazed, the nord was unable to block the end of the spear that impaled his body. His heart pierced by the sharp spear's end. His eyes widened and remained that way as his life was extinguished. Kraven had survived this battle.

OOC: Posts for Athanden and Cyrus coming soon, possibly tonight, if not then tomorrow.

Rithe, The Lusty Lady

Rithe began to walk back over towards Arethan and the others as the blood from the enormous pirate soaked into the deck. When he was half way there a large tremor shook the ship, almost knock Rithe to the ground.

What the...

Rithe quickly looked up and Arethan,

"I think it's time we get off this ship."

Arethan Andas, The Lusty Lady

Arethan watched as panic and fear shrouded the deck before him. His companions appeared behind him, minus Swims, who now had his own task at hand. The glass helmet turned its way toward him, revealing the distraught voice of the young Alaudis. He drew his sword; his response was delayed as he watched his newest companion fight the large Redguard in front of him.

It is true, he does have certain ability.

The assassin turned to him after cutting down his foe. The ship shook, causing Arethan to take one knee in order to keep his balance. The back end began to drift into the watery surface beneath them, all crates and other objects on the deck sliding backwards at a noticeable pace. Rithe's face turned quickly, an obvious look of concern on his face.

"I think it's time we get off this ship."

Arethan nodded, turning to the three figures who followed him. Servyn gave his master a gaze of worry, beginning to walk away from the group.

"I'm going to find the Imperial. Leave me."

Arethan scowled back, a fierce glimpse overtaking his expressions. He clinched his fist with one hand, sheathing his sword with the other.

"Leave them to die! We've got to get out of here!"

Servyn shook his head towards the Ex-Her-Hand, a small frown coming from his face.

"I will meet you on the water."

Arethan huffed as another grim expression overcame him. He turned to Rithe, motioning his head towards the water to the left of them. His wrist flew into the air, emitting a green light. The steel-clad mage began to run towards the ship's side rail before jumping his way off of the Lusty Lady. As he fell through the air, another two lights found their way through the sea's vapor. The Dunmer began to slow fall his way down until he met the rippling water beneath him. He landed on it as ground, and before long one could notice that he was indeed walking on the water.

~~~

The younger Dunmer made his way off farther into the ship's deck, eyes scanning all around for the Imperial figure. The pirates swarmed the deck in panic as everything went to hell. Some fell will the leaning ship; others jumped from the sides of the boat in desperation. There were some who even tried to find their way to any type of lifeboat, as it was apparent the ship would soon be under the sea beneath them.

Servyn's balance was quite well off as he managed to sprint his way across the deck. A pirate approached him; he looked like a peculiar man, perhaps a Breton by his appearance. He drew his cutlass towards the Dark Elf, who in turn pulled his short blade from its sheath. The pirate smirked.

"It's time to meet your maker."

Servyn stepped back as he deflected the pirate's first strike, using his free hand to send a slight wave of telekinesis towards him.

I'm older than your mother...

He did not want to take the pirate's life, as he saw no point to do so. Surely he would hope that the pirate would have a chance to make it out alive, or that if he died, it would be at the hands of the seas below, not a Dunmeri rogue such as himself. Servyn took another maneuver to his left as the pirate collapsed on his feet.

"If you don't get off the damn ship, you're going to die!"

The pirate came back to his feet, sword still drawn. He was slow to respond, his mouth opening to display a missing of two teeth.

"But aye, elf, I'm taking you with me, to hell."

Servyn danced backward as he swung again, dodging the pirate's flurry of slashes that followed. The ship turned downward even more, the pirate dropping to his knees in order to keep some balance. Seeing his chance, Servyn dashed towards the higher end of the deck. The pirate, now accompanied by another of his kind, turned quickly to follow him. The Dunmeri agent ran past a small, nearly empty crate near the top of the deck that had barely moved at all. As he ran by, his hand was placed onto the box before him.

"[censored] you."

With the surplus weight from Servyn's burden spell, the box's weight increased its potential velocity. At the very instant, it began to propel its way towards the pirate's colliding with them and causing to flail onto the floor. Servyn now ran towards the Imperial as another pirate approached him. Alert and quick, he dodged the pirate's axe's blow just before returning the favor with a jab to the nose. The pirate fell backwards onto his back. Servyn drew his sword, speaking to the Imperial before him.

"We've got to get off this [censored]!"