"Enough," Sounsyy said calmly, raising her left hand into the air. Her crew went at ease and made their way over to the wounded. Two cannoneers helped the first, downed lancer upright. The lancer was an aging Midlander male named Aric, from whom Sixteen had borrowed his clothes. After he had righted himself and recovered his breath, he shook off the two Cannoneers, as each of them had taken the time to have a little sport at Aric's expense.
The second lancer, who Ryanti had bested was an Elezen man named Juselmont, a rather distinguished looking Elezen with a graying, sand colored beard and carefully braided head of hair. He and the musketeer from the crow's nest went to Forty-three's side to check on his health. The musketeer was a olive-skinned Midlander woman in her fifties who sported the Roehmerl's leathers instead of simple clothes, much in the way that Marjanie broke the tradition of musketeers wearing simple clothes. This woman - Simin - was of a similar ilk to Marjanie. One side of her head was shaved, while the other sported long, flowing white hair. She carried herself like royalty - graceful, elegant, but dangerous.
Juselmont knelt beside Forty-three and offered the Lalafell his hand to help him stand, "A fine display of conjury, friend. My deepest apologies for any injuries! Sometimes we forget not all are as conditioned to the drills our Captain has us run almost daily." Simin, who stood silently nearby nodded in agreement.
Jada Moui lowered her guard, and at the Captain's call for peace, set about the task of collecting what weapons had been disarmed and flung across the deck. She took quick inventory and returned the items to her pack on her way over to the downed Eighty-five. She squatted down next to the Seeker and perched her rear on her heels, looking over the damage with a smirk. "Com'on love, I didn't whip yeh that hard now, did I? Can yeh stand?"
"Get the injured to the infirmary!" Sounsyy shouted across the deck, "Every scrape, sting, or cut gets a look, clear! Return to yer posts when fit, we'll be all hands when the storm sets in."
Cwaenlona was already at Ryanti's side, tilting his head back with one strong hand and holding gauze against his upper lip with a firm finger. The pressure to his upper lip slowed the bleeding enough for the Roegadyn medic to begin mopping up the exhausted Miqo'te. Sounsyy regarded the Miqo'te for a moment before moving to Sixteen's side at the base of the mainmast.
"Well fought brother," the Captain said to Sixteen as she neared, "It does me good to see the old ways of our people are still remembered. If this had been purely a test of yer martial strength, I would've deemed yeh all worthy victors. However, yer goals were to protect my Helmsmen and to work in cohesion, rather than division. In this, yeh still will need practice. But this is but the first drill of many, and I am already impressed."
This was a rare compliment coming from Sounsyy. Something her crew knew had to be earned. They were all experienced veterans, fighters, leaders, idealists - of that there was no doubt - but because the bar had been set high, to earn favor, they had to prove themselves in other ways. Comradeship, leadership, sacrifice and recovery. These were attributes of the character, things that were not so easily taught, but came from personal experience and empathy.
Sounsyy turned her gaze back to Ryanti as he was being aided by Cwaenlona and now a few other crew to help the young Miqo'te to his feet. "Seventy-seven fought well. But he is sick. This is twice I've seen the boy defeated by his own body. I hesitate to push him harder, though it is my belief that he must needs be."
Sounsyy wiped her face dry on her sleeve, only to have fresh beads drip down the sides of her face. It was a welcome sight when one of the crew returned with Susuroon upon her heels. The Qiqirn was laden with several waterskins, which he began distributing to those on deck. He seemed to be in his usual cheery mood. Even after taking her waterskin from the Qiqirn, Sounsyy kept her eyes on the young Miqo'te. Her thoughts began down a darker line of thought.
The second lancer, who Ryanti had bested was an Elezen man named Juselmont, a rather distinguished looking Elezen with a graying, sand colored beard and carefully braided head of hair. He and the musketeer from the crow's nest went to Forty-three's side to check on his health. The musketeer was a olive-skinned Midlander woman in her fifties who sported the Roehmerl's leathers instead of simple clothes, much in the way that Marjanie broke the tradition of musketeers wearing simple clothes. This woman - Simin - was of a similar ilk to Marjanie. One side of her head was shaved, while the other sported long, flowing white hair. She carried herself like royalty - graceful, elegant, but dangerous.
Juselmont knelt beside Forty-three and offered the Lalafell his hand to help him stand, "A fine display of conjury, friend. My deepest apologies for any injuries! Sometimes we forget not all are as conditioned to the drills our Captain has us run almost daily." Simin, who stood silently nearby nodded in agreement.
Jada Moui lowered her guard, and at the Captain's call for peace, set about the task of collecting what weapons had been disarmed and flung across the deck. She took quick inventory and returned the items to her pack on her way over to the downed Eighty-five. She squatted down next to the Seeker and perched her rear on her heels, looking over the damage with a smirk. "Com'on love, I didn't whip yeh that hard now, did I? Can yeh stand?"
"Get the injured to the infirmary!" Sounsyy shouted across the deck, "Every scrape, sting, or cut gets a look, clear! Return to yer posts when fit, we'll be all hands when the storm sets in."
Cwaenlona was already at Ryanti's side, tilting his head back with one strong hand and holding gauze against his upper lip with a firm finger. The pressure to his upper lip slowed the bleeding enough for the Roegadyn medic to begin mopping up the exhausted Miqo'te. Sounsyy regarded the Miqo'te for a moment before moving to Sixteen's side at the base of the mainmast.
"Well fought brother," the Captain said to Sixteen as she neared, "It does me good to see the old ways of our people are still remembered. If this had been purely a test of yer martial strength, I would've deemed yeh all worthy victors. However, yer goals were to protect my Helmsmen and to work in cohesion, rather than division. In this, yeh still will need practice. But this is but the first drill of many, and I am already impressed."
This was a rare compliment coming from Sounsyy. Something her crew knew had to be earned. They were all experienced veterans, fighters, leaders, idealists - of that there was no doubt - but because the bar had been set high, to earn favor, they had to prove themselves in other ways. Comradeship, leadership, sacrifice and recovery. These were attributes of the character, things that were not so easily taught, but came from personal experience and empathy.
Sounsyy turned her gaze back to Ryanti as he was being aided by Cwaenlona and now a few other crew to help the young Miqo'te to his feet. "Seventy-seven fought well. But he is sick. This is twice I've seen the boy defeated by his own body. I hesitate to push him harder, though it is my belief that he must needs be."
Sounsyy wiped her face dry on her sleeve, only to have fresh beads drip down the sides of her face. It was a welcome sight when one of the crew returned with Susuroon upon her heels. The Qiqirn was laden with several waterskins, which he began distributing to those on deck. He seemed to be in his usual cheery mood. Even after taking her waterskin from the Qiqirn, Sounsyy kept her eyes on the young Miqo'te. Her thoughts began down a darker line of thought.