The door to the infirmary crashed open as Berasaem rammed it with her shoulder. Both of her hands were straining to support Fhruhsunn, who was barely able to place one foot in front of the other even with her support. Jada and Pamido Wolmido carrying Eighty-five's limp form came after, with Cwaenlona and Simin guarding their retreat. As soon as Cwaenlona crossed the threshold she raced to the waterbasin in the center of the room and began to cleanse her hands and arms. Simin set about barricading the door before doing the same.
Berasaem had managed to guide Fhruhsunn to one of the medical cots where he sat on his own, his legs draped off the side. He refused to lean back or that the curtain be drawn. He wanted to see if it had all been for naught. Jada and Pamido Wolmido hoisted Eighty-five onto an adjacent cot and set about to unfastening her Sharlayan suit to expose the grievous wound to her neck. The suit was pulled back to Eighty-five's naval, leaving her top half bare, except for the watercolor painting of blood and sputum across the woman's torso. Simin was first to reach Eighty-five's side, waving her hands at the Plainsfolk and Keeper. "Clear out, mates!"
The Thavnairian stood at Eighty-five's head, one hand upon her forehead the other hovering over the wound. "She's freezing," Simin muttered, her fingers twitching slightly as she began to siphon her aether into the wound, hoping to staunch the bleeding until Cwaenlona was ready with the clamps. When the Roegadyn chirurgeon appeared by Simin's side with several pairs of forceps in hand, she immediately set to work sponging the area around the wound so she could observe the damage - which was extensive. Simin looked at the Roegadyn apprehensively, "I-I do not have the skills for this."
Cwaenlona shook her head and began working mechanically, going through the steps in her head one after the other. "It's a Zone II injury, severed jugular, and judging by the emphysema beneath the skin, her carotid was damaged. Simin, I need you to stabilize her with your magic for as long as you can."
The Near Easterner nodded and began funneling her lifeforce into Eighty-five's body. But bearing the full weight of the Miqo'te's damage was incredibly taxing and it immediately began to show. Cwaenlona took forceps in hand and moved slowly into the wound, clamping off the jugular above and searching for the tear in the carotid deeper within the neck.
"She's going to need more blood," Cwaenlona muttered. Jada held out her arm readily, but the chirurgeon shook her head. "No Jada, I need blood of her kind. Quickly."
"The Captain," Pamido Wolmido said, almost phrasing it as a question.
"Yes, go, this poor girl's nearly dry."
The three tore off across the infirmary, pulling down the barricade to throw open the wounded door and get to top deck. On the stairs, they passed Ryanti heading down with determination in his eyes. When the three crested the stairs, the bloody scene played itself out before them. The decks were now swamped with Sahagin ripping the remaining Garleans apart. In defense, the Roehmerl were fighting two enemies against whatever barricades they had managed.
"Fishbacks!" Pamido Wolmido spat and raced into the fray, "Find the captain! Get 'er below!" The small Plainsfolk barreled into a Sahagin as he raced towards his mark - a Sahagin that was pinning a small Qiqirn, trying to snap off his already-to-short snout. With one swing of his mammon, the Sahagin's skull shattered and sprayed the deck.
In the chaos of the scene, Jada found the Captain still crouched near the lifeless form of Cynthia, who had slumped over onto the deck, her lifeless maw stretched too wide against the planks. Ligatures about the neck were already appearing where Sounsyy had strangled the woman until she croaked her last traitorous breath. Jada rushed to where they were, knocking down a Sahagin with her spear that obstructed her path.
"Captain! Captain! Yer urgently needed in the infirmary!"
"I'm urgently needed 'ere too, lass!"
Sounsyy rose to her feet as she said this, pulling her shortsword out of Cynthia's knee and plunging it into the side of an unwary Sahagin who had passed the gunwale without taking notice of them. But there were too many, Sounsyy knew, and to fight them here was futile. Heaving her shortsword free, she reached her free hand up to her mouth and blew out a long whistle between her fingers. Somewhere in the fray, P'welro's bosun whistle answered in reply, signalling a retreat below decks.
So the crew pulled back to the aft stairs below, forming a small semi-circle ready to face any assault. But the Sahagin for now seemed more keen on slaughtering the Garleans first. The semi-circle had almost closed the distance to the staircase when Ryanti emerged back onto deck with a flurry of wind and energy, knocking past the Roehmerl's crew and heading for the nearest high ground. Sounsyy screamed at him, but he did not hear. Instead, his voice spoke, and the very ship seemed to shudder.
The Captain stared at him in shock, but Jada gripped her shoulder and pulled her back towards the stairs. P'welro looked sadly at Jada before turning to Sounsyy and shouting, "Go! We'll get him!"
So Sounsyy and Jada plunged down into the infirmary, leaving the some dozen of Roehmerl's uninjured crew to hold the ship. But an uneasy calm had settled over the Sahagin, even as the mangled corpses of the Garleans were strewn all about them. Their eyes were all transfixed upon the object. P'welro gave a shout and she, Juselmont, and Berasaem raced to put themselves between the fool and the Sahagin. Marjanie broke off from the group to retake the helm that had long been abandoned after Fhruhsunn was injured. Those remaining guarded the door to the infirmary below, the only open path between top decks and below now.
To their surprise, no assault came. At least not from the Sahagin. A sudden burst of light shot out of the artifact Ryanti held and pierced the sky above them, dazzling them all in brilliant Allagan light. The Sahagin bowed their heads, either in reverence, or fear, or pain from the bright light it was unclear. But Ryanti's words, strange as they were, struck P'welro. Righteous cause? She assumed the Captain knew, even if the rest of them were in the dark.
P'welro growled, "Can't believe I'm sayin' this. Ignore the fishbacks, help 'em slaughter the Garleans!" She gave several blasts with her whistle and the crew hesitantly began to fan out across the deck towards the Garlean's, Ganesha. One by one they passed by where Ryanti stood as they met the Garlean's last attempt at an assault. They were all but finished, but the Roehmerl showed them no quarter. Their deaths came quick, even more so when the Sahagin catapulted into action, fighting alongside the Lominsans.
In a matter of minutes, the unlikely alliance had purged both ships of Garleans, leaving only an awkward silence as they both returned to decks. This was a most uncomfortable partnership, for both Sahagin and Lominsan - enemies for nigh fifteen years since the first summoning of Leviathan and the atrocities of the Scarlet Sea Devil and Chief Admiral both. Both groups gripped their weapons tightly, nervously. Then with a suddenly splash of water, a giant red elbst rose out of the water and crawled its way up the side of the Ganesha and slid onto the deck. The massive creature eased its way past onlookers in Ryanti's direction. A low hissing, clicking noise issued from its rider - a Sahagin bathed in gold and armored in Allagan cermet chunks found on the ocean floor. He bore a massive headdress of fish fins and jellyfish tentacles, all painted with flecks of gold.
"Pshhh... Pssshh... Ssshorewalkersss who possssessss the Key. I am... Psshhh... Juhh, father of thisss Clutch. My clutchfather and his clutchfather and his own clutchfather have sssought the Key for a thousssand sssunsss. Pshhh... Sssince before the Whorl wassshed away my kin, when the Coelacanthus ssstill reigned under the Deep. And now... Pssshhh... ssshorewalkersss would ssseek the door."
Juhh shivered violently, his gils dilating and his headdress bristling madly. P'welro moved her hand slightly towards her musket.
"Tell usss ssshorewalker, bearer of the Key, do you ssseek the sssacred sssite to ssshare in itsss ancient knowledge. Or... Psshhh... would you take it by force."
There was a round of hissing and clicking from the Sahagin. The Roehmerl's crew were growing increasingly more nervous. But the Clutchfather continued, "Psshh... you ssspeak of righteousssnesss, but you have not... Pssshhh... ssssseen!"
The Sahagin dismounted his elbst, who called out a coarse textured song that would undoubtedly sound better submerged in the Deep. Even off his mount, Juhh was impressive in stature. Seven fulms tall and the musculature of a born swimmer. His upper body bulged and his scales rippled with each step he took towards Ryanti. His webbed feet slapped the deck loudly. Unlike his kin, he bore no weapons. His weapon was his presence. He stopped, not more than a couple yalms before Ryanti. P'welro stood in front of him, blocking a direct path, but Juhh seemed to see straight past her. The Sahagin had deep red eyes that stared into Ryanti's own.
"Psshhh... You have walked far, Ssshorewalker," he said calmly, "I can ssseee it in your eyesss. Psshhh... but you cannot walk upon thessse wavesss. You mussst ssswim now."
Below Sounsyy let out a short yelp of pain as Cwaenlona plunged a needle deep into the soft skin of her elbow. The chirurgeon had explained that she needed to hit an artery for there to be enough pressure to push into Eighty-five's neck. A slender tube, made from crushed reed pipes, connected the Captain to the wounded Miqo'te by another needle plunged downwards into the uninjured side of Eighty-five's neck. The Miqo'te girl was grey, her skin seemed so thin and oddly translucent.
Simin's normally clean and neat appearance was replaced with one that looked disheveled and exhausted. Her fingers were cramping as she tried to maintain Eighty-five's lifeforce with her own. Sounsyy was perched atop the cot's headboard, her feet to one side of Eighty-five's head. She had to remain above the level of her patient in order for the blood to drain more freely. But no matter how much blood Sounsyy bled into Eighty-five, the glaring wound still remained. And Cwaenlona was losing time. She knew that she could not clamp off such a large vein as the jugular for long. Eventually, the pressure in Eighty-five's head would build up and she would stroke. She needed a stent, but did not have the materials to make a proper one.
Cwaenlona crashed through her shelves and salves searching for some suitable replacement, while Eighty-five continued to slip in and out of consciousness. Jada and Fhruhsunn looked on from the next cot. Fhruhsunn too was looking pale, but had refused care until Eighty-five was stabilized... or passed. He had an arm around Jada's shoulder in comfort. Jada, in turn, held on to him to keep him upright. Above them, the sounds of hissing and clicking only grew more agitated. Jada began to wonder that even if they saved Eighty-five's life, would it all have been worth it if the Sahagin breached the infirmary?
Jada's thoughts were interrupted at the sound of a loud crash and a thump. Simin had fainted.
Berasaem had managed to guide Fhruhsunn to one of the medical cots where he sat on his own, his legs draped off the side. He refused to lean back or that the curtain be drawn. He wanted to see if it had all been for naught. Jada and Pamido Wolmido hoisted Eighty-five onto an adjacent cot and set about to unfastening her Sharlayan suit to expose the grievous wound to her neck. The suit was pulled back to Eighty-five's naval, leaving her top half bare, except for the watercolor painting of blood and sputum across the woman's torso. Simin was first to reach Eighty-five's side, waving her hands at the Plainsfolk and Keeper. "Clear out, mates!"
The Thavnairian stood at Eighty-five's head, one hand upon her forehead the other hovering over the wound. "She's freezing," Simin muttered, her fingers twitching slightly as she began to siphon her aether into the wound, hoping to staunch the bleeding until Cwaenlona was ready with the clamps. When the Roegadyn chirurgeon appeared by Simin's side with several pairs of forceps in hand, she immediately set to work sponging the area around the wound so she could observe the damage - which was extensive. Simin looked at the Roegadyn apprehensively, "I-I do not have the skills for this."
Cwaenlona shook her head and began working mechanically, going through the steps in her head one after the other. "It's a Zone II injury, severed jugular, and judging by the emphysema beneath the skin, her carotid was damaged. Simin, I need you to stabilize her with your magic for as long as you can."
The Near Easterner nodded and began funneling her lifeforce into Eighty-five's body. But bearing the full weight of the Miqo'te's damage was incredibly taxing and it immediately began to show. Cwaenlona took forceps in hand and moved slowly into the wound, clamping off the jugular above and searching for the tear in the carotid deeper within the neck.
"She's going to need more blood," Cwaenlona muttered. Jada held out her arm readily, but the chirurgeon shook her head. "No Jada, I need blood of her kind. Quickly."
"The Captain," Pamido Wolmido said, almost phrasing it as a question.
"Yes, go, this poor girl's nearly dry."
The three tore off across the infirmary, pulling down the barricade to throw open the wounded door and get to top deck. On the stairs, they passed Ryanti heading down with determination in his eyes. When the three crested the stairs, the bloody scene played itself out before them. The decks were now swamped with Sahagin ripping the remaining Garleans apart. In defense, the Roehmerl were fighting two enemies against whatever barricades they had managed.
"Fishbacks!" Pamido Wolmido spat and raced into the fray, "Find the captain! Get 'er below!" The small Plainsfolk barreled into a Sahagin as he raced towards his mark - a Sahagin that was pinning a small Qiqirn, trying to snap off his already-to-short snout. With one swing of his mammon, the Sahagin's skull shattered and sprayed the deck.
In the chaos of the scene, Jada found the Captain still crouched near the lifeless form of Cynthia, who had slumped over onto the deck, her lifeless maw stretched too wide against the planks. Ligatures about the neck were already appearing where Sounsyy had strangled the woman until she croaked her last traitorous breath. Jada rushed to where they were, knocking down a Sahagin with her spear that obstructed her path.
"Captain! Captain! Yer urgently needed in the infirmary!"
"I'm urgently needed 'ere too, lass!"
Sounsyy rose to her feet as she said this, pulling her shortsword out of Cynthia's knee and plunging it into the side of an unwary Sahagin who had passed the gunwale without taking notice of them. But there were too many, Sounsyy knew, and to fight them here was futile. Heaving her shortsword free, she reached her free hand up to her mouth and blew out a long whistle between her fingers. Somewhere in the fray, P'welro's bosun whistle answered in reply, signalling a retreat below decks.
So the crew pulled back to the aft stairs below, forming a small semi-circle ready to face any assault. But the Sahagin for now seemed more keen on slaughtering the Garleans first. The semi-circle had almost closed the distance to the staircase when Ryanti emerged back onto deck with a flurry of wind and energy, knocking past the Roehmerl's crew and heading for the nearest high ground. Sounsyy screamed at him, but he did not hear. Instead, his voice spoke, and the very ship seemed to shudder.
The Captain stared at him in shock, but Jada gripped her shoulder and pulled her back towards the stairs. P'welro looked sadly at Jada before turning to Sounsyy and shouting, "Go! We'll get him!"
So Sounsyy and Jada plunged down into the infirmary, leaving the some dozen of Roehmerl's uninjured crew to hold the ship. But an uneasy calm had settled over the Sahagin, even as the mangled corpses of the Garleans were strewn all about them. Their eyes were all transfixed upon the object. P'welro gave a shout and she, Juselmont, and Berasaem raced to put themselves between the fool and the Sahagin. Marjanie broke off from the group to retake the helm that had long been abandoned after Fhruhsunn was injured. Those remaining guarded the door to the infirmary below, the only open path between top decks and below now.
To their surprise, no assault came. At least not from the Sahagin. A sudden burst of light shot out of the artifact Ryanti held and pierced the sky above them, dazzling them all in brilliant Allagan light. The Sahagin bowed their heads, either in reverence, or fear, or pain from the bright light it was unclear. But Ryanti's words, strange as they were, struck P'welro. Righteous cause? She assumed the Captain knew, even if the rest of them were in the dark.
P'welro growled, "Can't believe I'm sayin' this. Ignore the fishbacks, help 'em slaughter the Garleans!" She gave several blasts with her whistle and the crew hesitantly began to fan out across the deck towards the Garlean's, Ganesha. One by one they passed by where Ryanti stood as they met the Garlean's last attempt at an assault. They were all but finished, but the Roehmerl showed them no quarter. Their deaths came quick, even more so when the Sahagin catapulted into action, fighting alongside the Lominsans.
In a matter of minutes, the unlikely alliance had purged both ships of Garleans, leaving only an awkward silence as they both returned to decks. This was a most uncomfortable partnership, for both Sahagin and Lominsan - enemies for nigh fifteen years since the first summoning of Leviathan and the atrocities of the Scarlet Sea Devil and Chief Admiral both. Both groups gripped their weapons tightly, nervously. Then with a suddenly splash of water, a giant red elbst rose out of the water and crawled its way up the side of the Ganesha and slid onto the deck. The massive creature eased its way past onlookers in Ryanti's direction. A low hissing, clicking noise issued from its rider - a Sahagin bathed in gold and armored in Allagan cermet chunks found on the ocean floor. He bore a massive headdress of fish fins and jellyfish tentacles, all painted with flecks of gold.
"Pshhh... Pssshh... Ssshorewalkersss who possssessss the Key. I am... Psshhh... Juhh, father of thisss Clutch. My clutchfather and his clutchfather and his own clutchfather have sssought the Key for a thousssand sssunsss. Pshhh... Sssince before the Whorl wassshed away my kin, when the Coelacanthus ssstill reigned under the Deep. And now... Pssshhh... ssshorewalkersss would ssseek the door."
Juhh shivered violently, his gils dilating and his headdress bristling madly. P'welro moved her hand slightly towards her musket.
"Tell usss ssshorewalker, bearer of the Key, do you ssseek the sssacred sssite to ssshare in itsss ancient knowledge. Or... Psshhh... would you take it by force."
There was a round of hissing and clicking from the Sahagin. The Roehmerl's crew were growing increasingly more nervous. But the Clutchfather continued, "Psshh... you ssspeak of righteousssnesss, but you have not... Pssshhh... ssssseen!"
The Sahagin dismounted his elbst, who called out a coarse textured song that would undoubtedly sound better submerged in the Deep. Even off his mount, Juhh was impressive in stature. Seven fulms tall and the musculature of a born swimmer. His upper body bulged and his scales rippled with each step he took towards Ryanti. His webbed feet slapped the deck loudly. Unlike his kin, he bore no weapons. His weapon was his presence. He stopped, not more than a couple yalms before Ryanti. P'welro stood in front of him, blocking a direct path, but Juhh seemed to see straight past her. The Sahagin had deep red eyes that stared into Ryanti's own.
"Psshhh... You have walked far, Ssshorewalker," he said calmly, "I can ssseee it in your eyesss. Psshhh... but you cannot walk upon thessse wavesss. You mussst ssswim now."
Below Sounsyy let out a short yelp of pain as Cwaenlona plunged a needle deep into the soft skin of her elbow. The chirurgeon had explained that she needed to hit an artery for there to be enough pressure to push into Eighty-five's neck. A slender tube, made from crushed reed pipes, connected the Captain to the wounded Miqo'te by another needle plunged downwards into the uninjured side of Eighty-five's neck. The Miqo'te girl was grey, her skin seemed so thin and oddly translucent.
Simin's normally clean and neat appearance was replaced with one that looked disheveled and exhausted. Her fingers were cramping as she tried to maintain Eighty-five's lifeforce with her own. Sounsyy was perched atop the cot's headboard, her feet to one side of Eighty-five's head. She had to remain above the level of her patient in order for the blood to drain more freely. But no matter how much blood Sounsyy bled into Eighty-five, the glaring wound still remained. And Cwaenlona was losing time. She knew that she could not clamp off such a large vein as the jugular for long. Eventually, the pressure in Eighty-five's head would build up and she would stroke. She needed a stent, but did not have the materials to make a proper one.
Cwaenlona crashed through her shelves and salves searching for some suitable replacement, while Eighty-five continued to slip in and out of consciousness. Jada and Fhruhsunn looked on from the next cot. Fhruhsunn too was looking pale, but had refused care until Eighty-five was stabilized... or passed. He had an arm around Jada's shoulder in comfort. Jada, in turn, held on to him to keep him upright. Above them, the sounds of hissing and clicking only grew more agitated. Jada began to wonder that even if they saved Eighty-five's life, would it all have been worth it if the Sahagin breached the infirmary?
Jada's thoughts were interrupted at the sound of a loud crash and a thump. Simin had fainted.