|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 15:22:49 GMT
Waves glistened on a perfect sapphire sea, gulls wheeling and dipping with mewling cries, the slopes of Ellyrion’s hills and mountains streaming by as the white sailed Eagle Ship cut through the waves with graceful speed. Sleek and streamlined, her kind was one of the fastest ships in any of the Old World, and deadly too. Broadside eagle claws flanked the deck, ready to defend her from any foe. And at her forecastle, Kasayth stood, gauntleted hands gripping the rails as he looked ahead, a feral grin upon his lips, salty from sea spray.
He had been missing The Willbreaker, but was almost convinced that Wavestrider was a far superior vessel. There was something about her, the cut of her turn, the way she sliced through the waves, or perhaps it was that she was taken, violated, and used for the fell devices of the Druchii. It always brought him great delight to see the weak thalken welcome their kind at the sight of their approach, only to be slaughtered and raided, or worse, welcomed on board to embrace their new lives.
Tor Elyr was not far, already the white spires could be viewed in the distance beyond a small cluster of islands that broke up the marshy estuary upon which the port city sat. Villages pillaged, the hold was full, and even with a filled belly, Wavestrider carried her load with swift power.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 15:23:13 GMT
“Here they come, sir,” a watchman exclaimed, harbour slaves moving to take their places to unload the incoming ship. The white granite of Tor Elyr’s walls were still stained by streaks of debris and soot from the fall of the city, which now served as a harbour to the new city of Khalad Lir. A bell rang as slavemasters rallied to drag the cargo to their pens, black armoured guards waiting silently nearby to deal with any new guests that were still unsure of their place.
The ship drew closer, gold paint on the azure prow, giving a sickening reminder of the pomp and glory this city once bore before it was overcome. Behind it, appeared the sails of a second ship... then a third... The watchman narrowed his eyes, straining at the vessels before him. They weren’t slowing. Were they expecting three?
A cry issued from his lips as he saw it, elves in gold and ithilmar filling the decks of the approaching fleet. Unless that corsair had found his crew some armour, this was bad. Very bad indeed.
“Sound the alarm! Those bastard weaklings have come!” he roared, the harbour bell now ringing with a loud frenzy as warriors stirred into action, running to fill the harbour side. “We must warn the Castellan,” he urged, grabbing a companion and shaking him by the shoulders, as a bolt of blue fire streaked across the sky, blasting the bell tower into smithereens.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 15:53:29 GMT
Up ahead a thick fog was beginning to form. With the shallow channels and hidden rocks, it would be foolish to attempt to navigate at speed, and Kasayth was never one to desire harming a ship in his care. The order was given to pull in the topsails and mainsail, leaving the jib and staysails to pull her in slowly as she began her approach.
The day was bright, with a fresh wind from the sea, and he thought it strange that a fog was lingering so about the city. Usually they would sail within a fog bank from the sea, striking from the rolling mists to plunder and wreak havoc. His face sank as a realisation settled in.
“Khaine’s blessed arse...”
He slammed his hand on the railing, dashing down from the forecastle, the crew atop the deck looking somewhat disturbed but not surprised by his erratic behaviour. “Man those claws, arm yourselves, lads. Looks like trouble”.
“I bloody hope so!” someone called back, met by vicious laughter that put the grin back on Kasayth’s face as he primed his handheld repeater, holding it aloft and sweeping around to the prow, sea dragon cloak flowing behind him.
“Let’s show ‘em how it’s done, eh?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 16:18:12 GMT
From the harbour walls, reapers shot their bolts towards the three ships, answered in return by the High Elf enemy. Dalain, ran along the harbour, seeking a horse. He would deliver the watchman’s message, perhaps he would be rewarded? Might he even need an audience? How do you even address a noble? His boots pounded against the stone flags, his breaths swift in his throat as he hurried to his destination, a sense of urgency carried in his chest as the din of what was taking place around him roused his anxieties. The colour drained from his already pale face as he considered what otherwise might become of him for being the bearer of such troublesome tidings. They’d kill him. Or worse. Perhaps he should just make a run for it?
The dilemma was solved for Dalain as the sea boiled up into a column next to him and crashed down upon the street, dragging him and a dozen warriors with it back into the cold waters. The whole thing observed under the satisfied gaze of a mage aboard the foremost ship, who was already gesturing with his hands to weave the waters once again and strike his next target.
“Take him down!” a voice bellowed, reapers redoubling their efforts to destroy the ships.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 16:33:41 GMT
Pitch-soaked cloth had been wrapped around bolts loaded in the Eagle Claws, Druchii eager to fight. In the white blanket of the mist, nothing much could be seen ahead. Even the screams and sound of battle were muted. Kasayth knew these channels well enough by now, leaving Wavestrider to feel her own way at her own sweet speed, the graceful vessel moving silently through the water like a sea dragon stalking its unsuspecting prey. One of the crew held a torch, its flickering light breaking the muted monotone aboard the deck, the flame picking out wicked eyes hungry for violence, and the edges of cruel looking weapons.
A blue orb arced across the sky ahead, rising upwards before descending into an explosion of flame that could just be made out beyond. Kasayth pointed to the direction from which it came, the helmsman nodding at the silent order and turning the wheel to steer them true.
He raised his hand, closing his fist. The torchbearer moved along the deck, setting light to the loaded bolts as the grey forms of three ships slowly came into view. The Captain snarled his disgust, opening his hand to bid them be ready. There was no mistaking it, there was a mage with them. That’d explain the mist, he surmised.
“Let ‘em have it!”, he cried, sweeping his hand down, the signal answered by a volley of flaming bolts, launched at sails and sterns, Kasayth’s grin lighting up as much as the ships did. He did love those screams of surprise so.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 16:47:46 GMT
Men lay dead across the quayside, some floated in the water, where others sank; drawn into the depths by their heavy armour. Bolts were being moved in relay constantly towards the Reaper crews, their efforts not waning in the slightest. Already taking damage, the thalken vessels were retreating out of range of these weapons, leaving it to the mage to give out the majority of the punishment.
“Just a bit further,” the harbourmaster urged, “go on, you insufferable bastards.”
He wrung his hands together hoping they would go just far enough, then barked a laugh, pulling a lever that turned a great wheel. A great chain to guard the harbour mouth, in the style of the one found at Karond Kar had been commissioned, as part of the work to secure Khalad Lir and Ellyrion from would-be liberators. The whirring wheel was joined the heavy sound of metal grating across stone, as slowly the harbour chains of Khalad Lir rose up from the seabed. Great spikes had been crafted into each link, to pierce the hull of any vessel that dared draw near.
Running out of the wheelhouse, he saw that it had worked and was doing the job, thanking his gods that he’d managed it. His words turned to a look of astonishment as the back of two of the ships burst into flame, the sails of all three now alight. “Praise Khaine...” he whispered, shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
Post by Drakira on Oct 19, 2020 17:39:41 GMT
The High Elves frantically raked the flaming sails down, turning their ships, moving clumsily at first from their cluster at the harbour mouth. Kasayth considered driving in, to make the kill. Three versus one, and a mage? They did not have much left to use, the element of surprise had been spent. The decision was made at last as the mage aboard the lead ship summoned a great deluge above his ships to extinguish the fires, filling what was left of their sails with a magical wind to carry them to safety.
The corsair Captain by this point, had steered his ship deep into the mist once more, tucking it out of sight amid the small isles just out of the harbour, mixing in with the wrecks of ships previously downed in earlier battles. As the three ships moved by, he scowled as he recognised one of the flags upon a mast, a red eagle against a golden sun, upon a pale blue background. “You again,” he hissed.
He watched them sail onwards, out to sea and swore his oath to Mathlaan that the day would come that they crossed for a final time.
|
|
