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

Martinique checks dexterity and sailing at hard. Martinique is successful.

Caspian checks dexterity and sailing at hard. Caspian fails.

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

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

Ember checks command and sailing at hard. Ember fails.

In the wake of the last encounter with ships belonging to House Bloodbrook, one of the two ships escaped. High Lord Victus and his allies were able to capture Captain Marten Fiske. The man did not give up his secrets easily, and those he did were only marginally helpful. In the interrogation, it was learned that Bloodbrook hoped to find a way to sneak across the island of Maelstrom to breach the stronghold. THe cove had been hoped to provide a spot that would be both relatively close and covert. They were not expecting to be met by Thraxian ships. Especially not the high lord and his wife.

Now, the Thraxian navy prepares to meet a new host of Bloodbrook ships before they reach the cove. The expert skill of Victus and his allies ensures that the dozen-and-a-half ships arrive with time to prepare. Almost too much time. There is no sign of the Bloodbrook fleet.

Martinique takes naps before battles. A lot. Like if Ember lets her she will absolutely fall asleep on the Countess's shoulder until it's time to fight. But now it's time to--wait what, they're not here? Martinique prowls the deck of Victus's ship scouring the horizon for enemies, snapping at sailors for small corrections that she never would have noticed before she came to the Isles and had to learn to be a captain.

After their last engagement with Bloodbrook, Prince Victus had an air about him; constant unease and irritation that followed everywhere in his wake. He'd lost a precious piece of equipment, suffered several minor wounds, and had seen his wife stabbed by an arrow all in the same hour. It could not be said that the High Lord walked with total confidence, but rather with conviction to ensure that such troubles would be crushed underfoot. He stands on deck, high and mighty, his armor still carrying the tinge of dried blood from their previous skirmish. In place of what was once alaricite is now a rubicund top. Mostly devoid of markings, save for those that are wholly utilitarian. Its blood red coloration matches the Thraxian colors quite well, even if it provided him less assurance in his mortal body's protection.

Caspian can feel it.. that burning on his neck. that growing dread. Haakon was watching him he could tell! gods what kind of Thrax man didn't know his way around a ship.. and yet there was caspian.. passable at best. he did another knot.. looked at knew, swallowed caused he knew he was wrong, and quickly undid it before anyone saw. he actually had no idea where haakon was, and his over active mind was surely just playing tricks. he sighed slightly, lowering the rope he was working on and looking around the open seas, "i hate the waiting.. its almost the worst part"

Nestor, a destructive orange-pitted parrot arrives, delivering a message to Caspian before departing.

Ember has very spiky shoulders. Napping against the shoulders of her cloak is not especially advisable. The infant Lady Robyn has been left in the care of nannies and wet-nurses, and Ember -- who started training basically the minute that kid flew out of her -- is back in her full set of shadowmeld. Helmet included. Where Martinique is walking around barking, Ember silently stalks along the deck. Literally silently -- the shadowmeld boots muffle her footsteps, letting no noise carry. She walks to stand near Victus, scythe leaned on her shoulder. Ready.

Haakon had been near to Maelstrom by chance, having set in with many ships to take on fresh water on his way to the Eswynd Rock when the chance to join a fight aboard Victus' flagship had presented itself. So here he was, eyes scanning the open waters, but lingering on the nearby copses of trees, ashore. Aside to the prowling Victus, he rumbles, "If'n ye draw your ships near as can to the wooded shore-" a pause to peer at Caspian fidgeting with a rope, before he continues, "Gives a goodly chance the foe won't spot our masts before the trees. Take the edge, that way." Dirty Prodigal tricks.

Martinique punches Haakon's shoulder in approval.

The advance notice of impending attack grants Jasher something like an air of calm unlike anything he is wont to express in times of ambush, where uncertainty and chaos reign supreme. He has done everything that he can to prepare for the impending battle, and so now he patiently waits for enemy ships to crest the horizon at distance. The prince is clad in his usual diamondplate armor and standing within speaking distance of Victus, though without saying much to him - or anyone for that matter - over the duration of their trip. His expression is smooth for the most part, brows pinched only as he squints seaward, as if willing those Bloodbrook sails into existence. His right hand rests tentatively atop Reafian's pommel. Something Haakon says prompts Jasher to turn his head slightly toward him to both listen and acknowledge the idea.

"The Bloodbrooks throw more fire than the Lyceum throws poison down their own throats." Victus grumbles in kind to Haakon. Not one for formality today, it seems. Perhaps with good reason. "We've less than half of our own ships loaded with the stuff. Still, it only takes one ambitious fucker to burn all of us." Here, his head cants toward the tree line. "I'll be damned if that shit spreads to the shore-- we need that lumber for the war."

Jasher refrains from expressing his Very Strong Opinions about Thraxian Fire. At least verbally. Now he's sporting a scowl.

Caspian looks to Victus and haakon and winces, thinking back to the last time the fire was used. "Is there a good way to deal that fire? i've seen what it does.. but outside of smothering it no one seems to know a way to stop it."

It's quiet along the water, with all the Thraxian ships as ready as they can be. Hundreds of pairs of eyes scan the horizon, the wooded area at shore, and each other. Lady Thunderstruck is not the only dromond among the fleet, but more of the ships are smaller and faster. It takes at least another hour of uneasy waiting for the shouts to rise from the sides of the arrayed ships. "There!" "Bloodbrook colors!" They arrive from two directions, timed almost perfectly - though one side must work harder against the wind. The enemy is not shy with their flags this time, leaving no question about who has come to call. To fight. A couple of cogs on both sides are moving quickly at the front, not hesitating to charge into battle against the Thraxian fleet.

Haakon eyes Martinique sidelong at the shoulder punch. One vote in favor, it's how they communicate. When Victus speaks for concern of fire spreading to shore, the Eswynd reaver shrugs once and nods. His eye passes slowly to Caspian. "You see all the barrels about?" he gestures around the top deck. "Sand and water. At Redreef, hundreds of ships were packed together, crews taken up fighting. We've fewer here. More water to maneuver, more hands ready. You see a fire land, you smother it." Calls of Bloodbrook flags draw his eye. "It begins."

"If you can't smother the flame, you run in the other direction." Victus answers Caspian. "Unchecked, it'll burn until there's nothing left to kindle." A shame these boats had to be made of wood. But who ever heard of an iron boat? What a terrible, sinking idea. Lugging his greatsword over his shoulder, Victus begins a slow gait down the deck. Peering over the rails as the soldiers call out. Beneath his helm, his eyes narrow. "Archers, prepare to fire. Swords and axes, prepare to board." A beat. "Scythes included."

Ember replies to Victus thusly:

Ember wields Eschaton, an alaricite scythe decorated with black stones.

Martinique smiles at Haakon, at Victus, at really all of the others on the ship. It is a devil's grin that promises carnage as soon as the enemy moves into range. Until then? She is running the foremast. They will be in position. The enemy shall greet suffering this day.

Caspian nods his head as Victus and Haakon answer him, running his tongue against the inside of his lips. As the cries raise up, he looks out over the water. A grin forms on his face as he pick up his helmet and pulls it down. "Well its about bloody time." he moved to stand by a small barrel of javelins, something to do until they are close enough to board.

Having been distracted by the ensuing conversation, Jasher misses the first appearance of Bloodbrook ships sailing in from two sides, and so jumps into action after a few moments' delay. First, he crosses the deck at a brisk pace to get eyes on the ships in most immediate range. After counting them out and getting a good idea of their approach - which ones would be attempting to flank and board the Lady Thunderstruck, the prince moves to get into position for boarding action: within a few feet of the rail and Victus both.

Medeia flips a coin and it lands on heads.

Those foremost cogs begin to harry the crews of the first ships they meet, releasing arrows as soon as they are within range. This allows the bigger ships to approach the bigger ships, sending strength against strength - and rightly assuming the most illustrious targets would be upon the distinctive Lady Thunderstruck. While the cogs, and galleys behind them, pull the outer flanks of the fleet in two opposite directions, the dromonds face dromonds, splitting the battle on three 'fronts.' One dromond stays back, but Lady Thunderstruck is engaged by two others.

Jasher wields House Thrax Reafian Longsword.

Martinique wields Stone dagger with darkened bone handle.

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

Jasher checks command and sailing at hard. Jasher marginally fails.

Ember checks dexterity and athletics at hard. Ember fails.

Martinique checks strength and athletics at hard. Martinique is successful.

Caspian checks strength and athletics at hard. Caspian marginally fails.

Haakon checks strength and athletics at hard. Haakon is successful.

Haakon wields old-fashioned broadsword.

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

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

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

Martinique checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Martinique fails.

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

Ember checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Ember fails.

Haakon braces a boot on the dromond's rail as Victus brings the big warship near with expert precision, and the prodigal vaults onto the Dagonite deck, sword in one hand and shield in the other. His armored weight slams into a Bloodbrook warrior, knocking the man backward in shock, but without harm. The reaver deflects an axe with his round shield, a d eyes scan the enemy deck for fire bearers. "Where are you fucking fucks?" he growls.

Ember just gave birth. She's been training, but -- she's not there yet. The Redreef Countess immediately tries to push herself like she's in peak fitness, and it makes for an ugly, near-wipeout of a boarding attempt. She slams into the other boat, barely clearing it, and then after hurling herself up over the breach, is immediately besieged by enemies -- she holds off some, but a slash catches her arm. She's sloppy. Imperfect. Not on the ball. It's making her furious.

"Oh? They're gonna close with us?" Martinique actually displays a devil's grin as they come close. This is a decision they may regret as the blonde devil goes right over the rail to assault them even as they are trying to assult. She stabs a dude; that's just expected. That's like her way of formal greeting. That she took a stab herself is greeted more with annoyance than anything else as she turns her gaze upon the perpetrator.

Caspian does have to wait long as the ships come careening along side the dromond. He shoves the barrel of javelins aside and hops onto the railing, knives flashing. "Come on you bloody cinder rats! You have an appointment with my blades and it would be a shame to miss it!" once he judged they ships closed enough he hurled himself toward the dromond! Sadly, judging distance was clearly something he had a bad history of. Just ask the black dove. he hit the side of the ship, not quite clearing the railing. he slipped overboard, snagging a rope and clutching it as he plunged into the sea. he came up, sputtering, growling, and still holding the rope fortunately, climbing was something he was decent at, and was quickly onboard the deck, twisting past a few strikes from the crew as he hauled himself over the side. he looked at his soaking self, and grinned, "hah! preventative measures clearly!"

Victus isn't just motivated by his vendetta with Bloodbrook's sailors, he's downright /appalled/ at their very insolence to challenge Maelstrom itself. With the ships advancing on either side of his flagship, he lets out a low growl. "I don't care for this shit at all."

He turns on his heel and whistles at the navigator, his commanding presence radiating forth as he strides over the deck. Orders are barked left and right. No pause, no hesitation, no flaw in his articulation. The soldiers move as though they were extensions of his very will, and before long the Lady Thunderstruck is kicking up sea mist as it turns, skidding across the sea's surface with shocking agility. Another whistle, and a circular gesture above his head, and the ships sails are tilting once more. The rowers below deck do their job amply, and the combined effort has practically /shoving/ the Bloodbrook vessels out of the way, freeing the dromond as a giant would slug away an annoyance.

The High Lord sneers beneath his helm. "Try me, fuckers."

Having been previously distracted by the all but certain threat of Thraxian Fire being unleashed upon the fleet, Jasher takes far too much time surveying the enemy ships and misses his opportunity to help maneuver the Lady Thunderstruck out of a vulnerable position to both oncoming dromonds. However, Victus more than excels in the art of commanding, which means he can shift his focus on assisting the crew with carrying the High Lord's orders out. He's just that motivational today. Or terrifying. Both.

To say that Bloodbrook's sailors were not expecting the ferocity with which Haakon, Martinique, and Caspian boarded them would be an understatement. More Thraxian warriors follow, and soon the chaos of battle reigns upon the deck. They were even less prepared for Lady Thunderstruck to evade being flanked so cleanly, leaving the second dromond floundering to reposition on the now-choppy water. At the sides, arrows and blades let loose, dropping bodies over ship rails.

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

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

Martinique checks dexterity and small wpn at hard. Botch! Martinique fails completely.

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

Martinique checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Martinique fails.

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

Victus checks strength and athletics at hard. Victus fails.

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

Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Caspian fails.

Martinique wields a well-loved rubicund poignard.

Victus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Victus fails.

So, vengeance against the stabber goes poorly. Very poorly. Not only does he get in another stab but manages to knock Marti's dagger out of her hand; it's slick with blood, or at least that's what she'll tell people later. But there's more injury involved. She steps back enough that she can draw her secondary weapon--another dagger, because she is Marti, and glare in the direction of her enemy.

Slow. Clumsy. Ember is getting angrier, and in her anger, she's not getting more focused. Her injured arm makes her go wide on a swing of her scythe, failing to connect with anything but air, and badly unbalancing herself. She turns away and eats another, smaller slash to the back. Fortunately, that's mostly scar tissue anyway.

Caspian lets out a laugh as he hurls himself into the nearest clump of sailors. "Im going to find those kegs of fire and make you lot drink it! then im going poke you full of holes and use you as a sprinkler to rain your lovely fire down on all your fellows!" he his blades sing as they whirl in the air, slicing through flesh and armor as he drops another sailor. he may have bit of a bit more than he could chew as a blow from behind sends him staggering slightly. thankfully, the armor absorbed most of it. its what armor is for anyway!

With his orders completed, Victus rushes for the rails. One boot up, and the other sailing straight over. Clearly he's not content to let the reapers, knights and Haakons of the world have all the fun. Feats of agility were far from the High Lord's forte though, given his size and choice of heavier armor. When he lands, he's immediately on one of his knees to brace for the impact. It leaves him slow to stagger back to his feet, even if it's only a brief soreness. What isn't so brief is the immediate attack he's on the receiving end up. Luckily his armor saves him from a terrible blow, but struck he is nonetheless. It wasn't a smart maneuver, but it's more about the principle.

Most Prodigals have an undeserved reputation for savagery, for being too Shav-like and barbaric in their conduct. It is an unfair social burden for them, among Arvani. Haakon is not one of these. His savage reputation is rather well earned. The prodigal reaver cuts a gory swathe through the Bloodbrook warriors before him, broadsword's edge biting mortally into the root of one man's neck, before cleaving the face of another once wrenched free, splattering blood all over the next two in rank. "I will feed your heads to the sea, and bathe your decks in so much blood even YE cannot light it afire!"

Jasher continues to assist the crew with keeping the Lady Thunderstruck stable, though his duties are paused when he observes Victus board the enemy dromond. The scowl he's adopted since first engagement now buckles beneath an expression of concern. Follow and help to defend his High Lord, or remain behind and protect the flagship? He hesitates, but ultimately remains behind, though his gaze is never long parted from Victus' position across the narrow channel separating them.

At least one Bloodbrook sailor sees Haakon cleave the face of one of his crewmates and runs for the rail. He vomits and falls over into the sea clumsily. Chance of survival: minimal. To the left, Thrax and Bloodbrook fight fire with fire - screaming and smoke fill the air as the crews of six ships all scramble to board the closest ship not aflame. It's unclear from the distance (and amid all the more pressing action) which house is coming out ahead. Warriors begin to move from the deck of the Bloodbrook dromond to the Lady Thunderstruck, and that second dromond becomes repositioned, though not in a perfect flank.

Victus checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Victus marginally fails.

Victus checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Victus fails.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ember checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Ember fails.

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

Her dagger is knocked aside; Martinique looks briefly astonished as it falls from her hand and clatters to the deck. She won't chase after it immediately, as she has a backup ready, which she fumbles for, but she can't get it ready so instantly, and her enemy is still before her. She moves to avoid attack though she is not entirely succesful. Another glance over at Ember and the General huffs angrily; none of this shall stand.

Haakon is a mess of steel maille and splattered blood, but so far none of it is his own. Striking here and there, turning aside stabs and slashes with sword and shield, holding his place on the Bloodbrook deck, but making no further progress. As best he can, the snarling reaver glances below to gauge whether the rowers of this big warship are freemen or thralls.

Caspian is caught for a moment in awe at the sheer brutality of the martial display haakon is putting on. his face breaks into a laugh and he realizes nothing he can say will upset the enemy as much as this one thing. "Lord haakon is coming for you! over the sides before he finds you!" he twists past a pair of sailors, dropping and slicing them across the back of the knees. any parry or two, and he spies the way up to the rigging. a grin crests his face and he begins to cut hit way toward it.

It takes some time for Victus to regain his footing and regroup. Barathrum is held aloft, its tip pointed directly at the enemy. His swings are wide and slow, a promise to be devastating /if/ it were to land, but a faster soul wouldn't find it horribly difficult to move out of the way. Its this lack of the killing bite that leaves him open, and more sharp cuts are bloodying him by the moment. Despite the look of it, the High Lord is still holding together well. The pain is bit back as he continues to push forward.

When the enemy warriors finally begin to cross to the Lady Thunderstuck, Jasher is there and ready to engage them. Except that the distinct scent of burning wood fills the air, and black smoke curls into the sky. Ships are now ablaze, and this fact is incredibly distracting to the selfsame prince that scowled in disapproval at the notion of both sides employing it in combat so readily. And so while he is otherwise preoccupied with observing where flames are spreading, he is knocked sideways by a well-placed boot against his chest by a Bloodbrook boarder. He staggers backward and slams against the mainmast with an audible crack, his diamondplate and bones rattling from the impact. He recovers just in time to strike back, though Reafian is expertly parried by a deft swordsman.

Ember runs her enemy through with her scythe-blade. "HAAH!" the Countess screams, at last claiming a victory over her own rust. And then she's stabbed in the leg by an enemy dagger, quite literally cutting the legs out from under her moment of triumph. She continues to skirmish, trying to regain her war legs.

The Bloodbrook sailors are recovering from the initial upper-hand the Thraxians had in boarding, and begin to press them back toward the Lady Thunderstruck - or into the water. A couple of the Thrax sailors see Ember fall and rush forward to haul her away from the battle. It takes effort, but they get her back about Victus's ship and away from the boarders. No matter how angry the countess is about it. Below deck, Haakon manages to see that about half of the rowers are chained. Though he cannot see them all. And off to the left, the first ship begins to fall into the sea - a THraxian one.

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

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

Caspian checks strength and athletics at hard. Caspian is successful.

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

Jasher checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Jasher fails.

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

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

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

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

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

There's some more fighting; Martinique is more engaged after losing her good dagger. She stabds first the guy who managed to knock it away, then slips around and parries any attempts by his mates to retaliate as she tries to get closer to Ember, to be sure the Countess is well--you know, finding her war legs.

Enduring the brunt of the Bloodbrook's attack, Victus finally finds an opening to take his advantage. As one blade sails far too close to his neck, he pivots, and brings his greatsword straight through the unfortunate sailor's gut. Steel and alaricite clash as he weathers blows, working his way through the chaos on deck at a slow but efficient pace. Soon enough he's spilling another soldier's blood with a swing, that leaves him with enough momentum to run another through in quick succession. The High Lord at work.

Haakon is forced back a pair of steps, boots slipping on the bloody planks before he shield pushes his foe backward and chops into the meat of a thigh, just below the edge of the warrior's hauberk. Backing the unfortunate man innto the rail, he dumps the Bloodbrook overboard, and shouts, "They've no more hands coming! The rowers are chained, this lot are on their own!"

Caspian lunges forward, shouldering past a sailor and his weak attempt at stabbing him, he hops onto the railing, the grabs the rigging. with a feral grin he scrambles up the rigging, twisting and slipping past any strikes that came at him from below as he moved to get a better look around the ship, searching for those damned barrels. he looks down as haakon calls out, wincing slightly at the mention of the chained men. he bellows out, loudly, but to no one in particular, "free the thralls! break the chains!"

Jasher recovers fully from that jarring kick to the chest and goes immediately on the offensive, his studied footwork and incisive strikes driving the enemy back, until he has nowhere else to go but right overboard and into the drink. It is while he has this man pressed against the rail, his ears pick up the sound of a grunt as a Bloodbrook enemy attempts to skewer him from behind with the spiked head of a poleaxe. However, the prince manages to sidestep the strike with a mere moment to spare, and the man ends up driving the weapon through his own ally. Their eyes go wide as they both register the mistake; before the poleaxe wielding warrior can withdraw his weapon and defend himself, Jasher shoves his blade upward from just below the breastplate, killing him instantly. Both men crumble to the deck and leave Jasher free to pursue his next victim.

Caspian checks perception and investigation at daunting. Caspian fails.

The blaze off on the left (northern) flank grows brighter as another ship catches fire, as if to replace the one that has fallen to pieces and left dozens of sailors swimming for shore. At least the Thraxians can take comfort in more of the Bloodbrook ships being aflame than THraxian ships, just now. The deck of the Bloodbrook dromond is a treacherous mess of blood and bodies and swinging blades, obscuring most anything from view - even with an eagle eye advantage. THe second Bloodbrook dromond continues to spill warriors onto the deck of the Lady Thunderstruck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caspian checks strength and athletics at hard. Caspian marginally fails.

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

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

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

Fighting brings Martinique great joy; even as she has to use her backup dagger, she's still grinning her devil's grin and working to strike as many enemies as she can. She doesn't get as many as she wants; in fact none, in the last few minutes, as she has to spend her energy avoiding enemy swords, much to her annoyance. However, in that at least, she is successful-she's already bleeding enough, probably.

Jasher has singled out another Bloodbrook warrior when a surge of pain radiates from the right side of his ribcage. Taking that very deep inhale was not the cause of it, surely, but absolutely contributed to his awareness of a wound he sustained there. There is little time for him to slow down and assess the extent of the damage; more and more enemies are swarming the deck of the Thunderstruck. The last thing Victus needs is to lose his ship to these bastards. The prince raises his longsword to strike, his blade finding purchase with the soft leather cuirass the enemy wears, but he takes a crack against the head by another man's blade pommel in the meanwhile. He staggers forward, and then pivots to engage that attacker next.

Caspian looks around, eyes scanning for those damn barrels. he couldn't spy them amidst the mess down below. but maybe if he moved over there... he placed his foot to the next rung,.. only.. he had been moving. his foot hit nothing, his leg pumping in the air as he began to plummet down below. a yelp escaped him as he fell, and he grabbed for ropes, wood, sail.. anything. he bounced from rope to rop as the rigging did a marvelous job of breaking his fall, though his back was a cris cross of bruises. he scrambled to untangle himself from the ratsnest of ropes he now found himself in and struggled free, hoping to his feat. he looked around, "If we take the helm can we ram the other ship with this one!? relieve the Thunderstruck?" he was already starting to look for the way below even as he shouted his idea.

There's nothing graceful about Victus' poise. He fights utilizing brute strength and the privilege of tough armor, allowing him to wade through ranks with only the occasional sidestep. The rest is blocked by the thick alaricite of his sword and occasionally whatever hits he can simply shrug off thanks to his protection. With a cry, he ends up locking swords with another Bloodbrook. For awhile they wrestle for control, pushing back and forth, until the High Lord breaks their stalemate by shoving Barathrum's crossguard into the poor man's face. He follows with a second blow across the cheek, leaving the Bloodbrook staggered. He finishes with one more strike atop the mans head with the pommel of his blade, sending him crashing into the deck. He takes a moment to observe the situation. Flames and boarders, blood and death. Luckily, he doesn't count more of Thrax's among the bodies.

Haakon punches the next foe in their helmed face with the rim of his shield to snap their head back and expose their neck for a fleeting instant. The prodigal's sword doesn't miss the mark, and while nothing is detached, the victim will bleed out swiftly. "The deeps are hungry for the likes of ye," he growls, seeking to tip the dying Dagonite over the rails and avoid yet more human detritus cluttering the deck. He shouts back at Caspian, "It's a fucking dromond, direct the bloody OARS."

The crew of the Bloodbrook dromond begin to retreat from Victus, Haakon, and their allies. While everyone was distracted by the immediacy of combat, no one noticed that third dromond finally maneuvering closer. A loud, clear command comes from a tall, proud looking man on that newer arrival: "Burn it!" The crew that can disengage from the fight do, preparing to set the dromond ablaze. Others ditch overboard and make for the newer dromond, which has lowered a few ropes and ladders to allow the surviving crew to climb aboard. TThere is no concern for the men chained to the oars below. Fire begins to spread, forcing retreat - or worse.

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

Caspian checks willpower at hard. Caspian marginally fails.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jasher checks 'unconsciousness save' at daunting. Jasher fails.

Jasher is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

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

Haakon curses with venom as the command among traitors is given to burn the ship and deny the Victors the prize. "This is why we always hated the fucks," he informs the nebulous 'other side' at large in the course of bailing off the burning dromond. "Sore losers, the lot of you!"

Caspian blanches as the cry goes up to fire the ship. he looks around, a look flashing over his face that was alien to most who knew the man. panic. "The people Below! we have to get them out!!" his voice was stricken as she shoved and elbowed trying to find the door below. But the wave of men shoving towards the side of the ship was to much. by the time he found even a hint fo where to go, the flames were licking up the side, the heat sweltering. He could hear them.. hear them below, from the flames. the cries, the pleas.. the pounding of chained souls begging to be free as the fires consumed them. a shit lot in life, a worse lot in death. he tried to make for the door.. but the heat drove him back. he braced himself preparing to hurl himself into the flames and the door.. but his legs wouldn't move. his body refused to obey, refused to doom itself in this endeavor. tears began to flow freely from his eyes, the heat evaporating them as quickly as they formed. A scream burst forth, not one of pain, but of utter sorrow as he spun and ran to the side, vaulting to safety. he hit the deck, took a few steps, and dropped to his knees.

As the fire began to spread, Martinique's anger began to expand. "Calisse!" She yelled, then leapt back for the side, to get away from the now-fireship. What follows are a lot of not quite Arvani words complaining about cowards who won't stand for a fair fight, even as she's cleaning her dagger on the deck of Victus's ship once more, watching the enemy with angry eyes.

In the midst of the chaos that has erupted thanks to the spreading fire, Jasher is overwhelmed by attacking Bloodbrook forces and struck so hard in the head by a repeated blow to the head by an enemy sword pommel that he is incapacitated.

The authoritative man on that third dromond presses forward with a swarm of fresh Bloodbrook warriors, closing in around the fallen form of Jasher. "How fortuitous," He can be heard saying as Victus shouts for Jasher and the heirloom sword of House THrax to be recovered to safety. But the press of bodies is thick and frenzied from the Bloodbrook as they carve a path abord Lady Thunderstruck for the man. He nudges Jasher with a booted foot, then leans down to take Reafian in hand. "Prince Dagon sends his regards." Then, the unnamed man retreats back to the Bloodbrook dromond and gives a signal that has all ships capable of retreating doing so.

Haakon wields common bow.

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

Martinique checks dexterity and archery at hard. Martinique fails.

Caspian checks dexterity and archery at hard. Caspian fails.

Martinique actually doesn't spend that much time practicing knife throwing, but sometimes it's the best available choice, such as now. She tips up the dagger and hurls it--and it goes very wide, becuase throwing knives is actually something where you have to account for wind and such and she just didn't do that because she was so pissed off. "Can we chase them still?" She asks of Haakon even as he looses a successful arrow.

Caspian looks up as he realizes this deck is not secure. he scrambles to his feat, his eyes blazing and knives coming forth once more. then he spies the man leaning over jasher. "Fuck you!" he flips the dagger and sends it whistling toward the man, In his current state, it is no wonder the blow goes wide, sailing into the water. he growls and spits to the side as the rest of the bloodbrook withdraw. he turns, surveying the carnage on the deck of the shop. he drops to his knees by on of the dead bloodbrook, pulling forth a bag and finishing the work that had killed man. removing the head. it vanished into the bag and he tied it off, standing back up to look to see if pursuit was to be made.

Haakon regains the deck of the Lady Thunderstruck, shoulders heaving with recent exertion as the victorious Victorian boarding party returns, in time to see the last enemies aboard the dromond retreating. He starts to answer Caspian before his eye catches upon the prone form of Jasher, and the specific sword being carried off. "FUCK," he snarls, dropping broadsword and round shield on the deck with a clatter, and snatching up the bow and solitary arrow of a slain archer. His aim is good, and the arrow bites into the back of the absconding Dagonite, but the wound is neither deadly nor drop-ly. "Of course we can fucking chase them. HAND TO THE OARS, BRING US ABOUT. TEN MEN UP THE SHROUDS." But the same advantage of having free men on the oars- that they can leave their benches to fight- works against House Thrax now: they need precious time to return and ready the oars, more time to climb rigging and ready sails, all while nursing wounds. The enemy and their benches full of bound oarsmen had no such limitations.

As the rest of the Bloodbrook ships set course away from the Thraxian ships, it becomes clear that this was a Thraxian victory. Though one ship fell to fire, more of Bloodbrook's ships were left to burn. Ashore, some Thrax warriors capture (or kill those who won't surrender) enemies who swam for shore rather than their fellows' ships. On Lady Thunderstruck, too much needs doing to rally quickly after the retreating enemy. For now, this victory will need to be left shrouded in the dark shadow of Reafian being lost to the Dagonites.