Note: Contains depictions of graphic violence and torture.
Jada winced as the bullet whistled past her face. Her eyes widened in reaction to the spray of blood she saw just before her. Her heart sank as Eighty-five fell backwards into her. The dark Keeper was motionless for her own personal eternity, as if that bullet had struck her and not Eighty-five, as if she were some ghost left here to observe the natural world. But what seemed like an eternity was no more than a hairs-breadth of time. Jada staggered back under Eighty-five's deadweight and eased her fall to the deck. The Keeper drew a long breath, and suddenly the world returned to its speed - Eighty-five's lifeblood running like a river from her neck.
Jada discarded her bloody halberd and clamped one hand over Eighty-five's open neck and wrapped her free arm around the young woman's chest, pulling her into the Keeper's lap, the back of her head resting against Jada's armored belly.
"No, Leura, no, no, no, no," the Keeper woman's voice was soft but desperate as she watched Eighty-five's blood spill out between her fingers. "It's not t-time to-to sleep. Not here. Leura?"
The Keeper sniffed loudly, trying to force back the water running in her eyes and nose. A part of her didn't want to see Eighty-five's skin growing ashen as the young Miqo'te's blood drained through her steady fingers, but Jada had seen many dead and dying.
P'welro had to draw her gaze away. She had been standing there in stunned silence watching the scene play out beside her. Seventy-seven had abandoned his weapon. Sixteen lay defeated upon the deck. Forty-three had been thrown overboard with no indication that his spell had saved him from Eighty-five's own fate. The blond seawife saw no other course of action. She took one step towards Terminus and raised her pistol and the Captain's revolver and fired. One-two. One-two.
"Coverin'!" She shouted, both guns raised though her own pistol was empty and only the Captain's revolver kept firing its last three bullets. Then both her pistols hissed the dead man's click. Terminus turned upon her, as the blond had placed herself between the Garlean and Eighty-five's body. He raised his gunblade in reply as P'welro raced to reload.
The heavy shot rang out. Cynthia's blind, last resort foiled as a strong forearm found its way around Sounsyy's neck and pulled her off of the bloody Garlean just in time. Sounsyy struggled against her assailant only to realize it was Fhruhsunn she was fighting against. The muted Roegadyn had pulled himself out of her cabin and back into the fray. His shirt was stained dark with blood and he was heavily favoring his left side. The short, labored breaths he drew did not seem to extend the right side of his chest fully.
When Sounsyy again tried to break free, Fhruhsunn hurled her to one side, uncoiling his strong arm from around her neck. The Captain rolled across the deck and the Roegadyn turned his attention to Cynthia who was now frantically trying to reload. Fhruhsunn smacked the gun away from the injured woman's grasp with the back of his hand, leaving the woman defenseless. She tried to get up and run, but Fhruhsunn's hand grabbed the woman by her face, pulled the woman towards him slightly, then sent her head crashing back into the edge of the gunwale with a crack.
The Garlean slumped against the edge of the gunwale in a daze, blood streaming down her face, her eyes gazing ahead blankly. This was the end, she may have thought in that moment. The Roegadyn's face went dark and he reeled back with a fist and began pummeling the woman's face once, twice, three times before Sounsyy barked at him.
"Fhruhsunn!" She shouted, slowly picking herself up onto her unsteady feet. The Roegadyn froze in mid swing and looked over his shoulder with a tired expression at his captain. She was about to shake her head and call him off when the sound of shattering glass brought her attention to the other vessel. A Hyuran form was thrown from a window onto the deck below. Screams and gunshots began ringing out on the other ship. The Captain took a short breath, looking between Fhruhsunn and Cynthia.
"Gimme yer pistol!" She ordered Fhruhsunn, who complied wordlessly, "Now go! Get them off that ship!"
Fhruhsunn nodded, lifting his hands from Cynthia's crumpled form, and made his way as quickly as he could onto the enemy's deck. His hand clutched his right side tightly as he lumbered away.
"FOLLOW HIM!" Sounsyy barked to anyone within earshot. There was a rush of feet along the planks, but Sounsyy's hearing was distorted and ringing. She felt dizzy as she turned back to face Cynthia. The deck around her spun slightly. With one hand loosely gripping her shortsword and the other fingering the trigger of Fhruhsunn's pistol, Sounsyy approached the crippled traitor. Slowly, she eased herself down onto one knee before the woman. Their eyes met, both pair empty and unfeeling. Until Sounsyy drove her shortsword down into Cynthia's knee. The traitor's eyes came alight with anguish and tears.
Sounsyy gripped the shortsword's handle firmly in her hand and tried to wiggle the blade, but it was lodged firmly into the Roehmerl's deck. Sounsyy shifted her weight from left leg to right, easing herself forward so she now knelt on her right leg. Her right boot crushed Cynthia's left hand under-toe. Cynthia winced as the pain climbed up her body but she was thoroughly pinned.
Cynthia made to speak, to utter out her last words, her last quip, some haunting confession, or rehearsed monologue - but Sounsyy clamped her now-free hand over the woman's mouth before she could whisper a syllable. Sounsyy's three fingers and thumb left deep depressions in her cheeks. Sounsyy said nothing, just kept her eyes glowering down at Cynthia's. Sounsyy withdrew her hand from Cynthia's mouth and for a brief moment the woman thought she was going to be allowed to say her last. But Sounsyy hand only moved up to her forehead, firmly shoving it back so her neck craned backwards. Cynthia's mouth gaped open like a fish out of water but before she could let out her last defiant noise, Sounsyy brought up Fhruhsunn's pistol and held it at a downward angle against Cynthia's jaw and fired.
The traitor let out a high-pitched, gurgling screech. The bullet had shattered the left side of her jaw, dislocating the distal portion of the bone from where it connected to the rest of her skull. Blood began seeping from the wound and the deep graze the bullet had left across the underside of her chin. Her jaw hung loose and every quick, panicked breath Cynthia took she felt the broken bone shifting painfully in her mouth.
Sounsyy set the pistol aside and brought both hands to caress the sides of Cynthia's face, like one might cradle a lover. But Cynthia was anything but. She had betrayed the Resistance. She had betrayed her nation, her people, her pride. To Sounsyy, there was no greater dishonor. It had been nearly seven years since she last tortured a man. Sounsyy did not believe in prolonging one's death. Thal had been prolonging her own for twenty years and it was a fate she did not wish upon others. But Cynthia had forsaken her people's struggle for comfort, pleasure, and power. Sounsyy had twenty years of penance to inflict while the traitor still clung to life, still clung to that glimmer of hope that she might survive this. Sounsyy was going to relish watching this glimmer fade from her eyes.
Sounsyy shifted her hands slowly across Cynthia's face. Her right palm rested against the traitor's forehead. Sounsyy's left, injured hand slid slowly down the woman's cheek until the tips of her fingers rested against the part in Cynthia's lips. Then she slid her fingers inside Cynthia's mouth, and pulled down savagely against the top of her teeth until the traitor's jaw began to unhinge and extend beyond what her anatomy would normally allow. Cynthia began to writhe and shriek pitifully as Sounsyy continued to slowly separate her lower jaw from the rest of her face. Her tongue flopped uselessly as the muscle began to tear and detach. Blood welled up in her mouth and her shrieks began to bubble.
Cynthia began to writhe more violently, but Sounsyy was now straddling the woman. Her left knee dug into her right hip. Her right boot still crushing her left hand. The sword still secured the one knee that might have been able to dislodge the Captain from her position. Even Cynthia's free hand was powerless to do anything but slap weakly at her torturer's thigh. Sounsyy's process was calculated and methodical. She felt no remorse for this, this time. There might have even been the faintest moment of erotic pleasure in the act when Cynthia's jaw finally came free with a loud pop. Cynthia's free hand gripped the Miqo'te's thigh tightly since she could no longer grit her teeth against the pain. Sounsyy withdrew her hands and watched as the woman wailed with her lopsided jaw. It hung too low on her face now, the skin of her cheeks was stretched and bruising.
"Yeh called us savages," Sounsyy said in a hoarse voice, "Savages ain't even the half of what we've been reduced to."
Cynthia just wept quietly. Sounsyy slapped her jaw, which snapped her focus back to attention with a sharp moan. Sounsyy grabbed her chin and directed her gaze back up to meet her own. Only the jaw now moved independently, and when she pulled up the teeth met unevenly with a painful-sounding grating. She held Cynthia in that position for another moment as she searched those treacherous eyes for any glimmer of hope. Seeing none, Sounsyy moved in for the kill.
P'welro had only managed to reload three shots into the revolver by the time Terminus had trained his gunblade on her. She gave a cry and in a flurry she drew the semi-loaded revolver against him, but before either one could fire, another loud shot echoed over the den. A heavy caliber round ricocheted off the outstretched gunblade, sending its aim off mark.
Marjanie strode defiantly across the Garlean deck, her long barrel rifle trained on Terminus. Her left hand held the barrel's aim steady while her right pulled the bolt and inserted another round. All the while she placed one foot in front of the other, marching and firing again, this time striking his armored shoulder, sending him back. P'welro fired upon him as well, exhausting what little she had managed to reload.
"Pull back t' the Roehmerl! We can't kill 'im, we'll sink 'is arse!"
"Pull back!" Marjanie echoed P'welro as she fired off another heavy round. A Garlean rushed her from the side as she continued her steady approach, but one of the remaining lancers aboard the vessel intercepted the assailant and gutted him before he could reach her. The Lominsan crew had formed a clear line of retreat for the Sharlayans, though their attention could not yet be torn from Eighty-five.
Fhruhsunn brushed past Marjanie to where P'welro was defending Jada, Ryanti, and K'leura. He grabbed Ryanti by the shoulder roughly and tried to pull him away from Eighty-five's body, but the Roegadyn was too drained. Ryanti seemed in shock. Fhruhsunn looked to Terminus, who had rounded on Marjanie. He knew that more lives were at stake if they stayed there. So he grabbed Ryanti again by the shoulder and pulled him around to face him. Fhruhsunn wanted to yell at the boy, tell him that they had to go, tell him that he would take the girl. But Fhruhsunn's yelling only came out as garbled nonsense. His gaping mouth revealing to Ryanti that Fhruhsunn no longer possessed a tongue - that only a torn stub of one remained, as if it had been violently removed sometime long ago. It was not like him to expose his shame so visibly, but they had to move and maybe screaming would do the trick, even if no sense could be made of his words.
Jada sensed the urgency in Fhruhsunn's actions and snapped back from her dark place of seclusion. P'welro was also now in danger, Marjanie, Fhruhsunn. So the Keeper called upon the last of her strength and began to heave Eighty-five's body back across the deck, sliding away from Terminus's approach. Fhruhsunn pushed Ryanti in the direction of the Roehmerl and moved to aid the Quartermaster. He hooked his good arm underneath Eighty-five's arm and began to drag her as best he could across deck with Jada's help.
A shout nearby caused Fhruhsunn to look up in alarm. A Garlean soldier ran at them with his battleaxe drawn. But Fhruhsunn's legs felt like lead and he could barely pick himself up to get to the marauder before he reached Jada. An arrow cut the Garlean down as he neared. Susuroon stood upon the Garlean gunwale, bow still drawn. His big, sad eyes fell upon Eighty-five but the Qiqirn could find nothing to say. His little chest just heaved and he pulled another arrow.
Fhruhsunn and Jada were so close now. Only a couple yalms lay between them and the safety of the Roehmerl. But Fhruhsunn's strength was spent and he collapsed from exhaustion. Susuroon looked down at the bloody Roegadyn and gave a worried squeak, and as if to answer, Pamido Wolmido and Berasaem were there to pull them to safety.
Marjanie and P'welro were falling back now as well. Terminus had rounded upon the pair and was closing the distant, his amused laugh carrying across the ship as he imagined their demise. His back was now turned to Sixteen. His attention fully on the retreating musketeers. Terminus raised his gunblade once more, finally done toying with the Lominsans. That was when Susuroon saw them - dark shapes moving in the water. That's when Susuroon's long ears heard their call to battle - that bubbly Bloodcant that made his hairs stand on end.
"HIT THE DECK!" The panicked Qiqirn squeaked at the top of his lungs before throwing himself flat on his face onto the deck below. Every member of the Roehmerl's crew who were still on their feet quickly abandoned whatever they were doing and threw themselves down to lay flat on the deck, some leaving bewildered Garleans mid-fight.
A moment of silence seemed to hang in the air as the noise of the Sea was suddenly absent. Then all sounds returned as the very sea came alive to attack the two vessels. Suddenly, a dozen elbsts bearing Sahagin riders propelled themselves from the waters surrounding both ships and onto the boats. The Sahagin dismounted in mid flight and dove down ontop of the still-standing Garleans with their spears extended. Some crashed bodily into the imperials and grappled with them tooth and claw across the deck until they tumbled off the other side into the brine below. The elbsts snatched whole soldiers in their jaws and ripped them back and forth before throwing them into the waters and slipping off the deck after them, only to emerge from the bloody waters to hunt anew. The sound of the Sahagin's gurgling clicks and hissing seafoam fueled the battle now between Sahagin and Garlean while the Roehmerl's crew lay flat or fetal against the deck and either played dead or pressed themselves back against the gunwales while the Sahagin propelled themselves overhead.
But even the Roehmerl's crew knew that soon the Sahagin would turn on them.
Jada winced as the bullet whistled past her face. Her eyes widened in reaction to the spray of blood she saw just before her. Her heart sank as Eighty-five fell backwards into her. The dark Keeper was motionless for her own personal eternity, as if that bullet had struck her and not Eighty-five, as if she were some ghost left here to observe the natural world. But what seemed like an eternity was no more than a hairs-breadth of time. Jada staggered back under Eighty-five's deadweight and eased her fall to the deck. The Keeper drew a long breath, and suddenly the world returned to its speed - Eighty-five's lifeblood running like a river from her neck.
Jada discarded her bloody halberd and clamped one hand over Eighty-five's open neck and wrapped her free arm around the young woman's chest, pulling her into the Keeper's lap, the back of her head resting against Jada's armored belly.
"No, Leura, no, no, no, no," the Keeper woman's voice was soft but desperate as she watched Eighty-five's blood spill out between her fingers. "It's not t-time to-to sleep. Not here. Leura?"
The Keeper sniffed loudly, trying to force back the water running in her eyes and nose. A part of her didn't want to see Eighty-five's skin growing ashen as the young Miqo'te's blood drained through her steady fingers, but Jada had seen many dead and dying.
P'welro had to draw her gaze away. She had been standing there in stunned silence watching the scene play out beside her. Seventy-seven had abandoned his weapon. Sixteen lay defeated upon the deck. Forty-three had been thrown overboard with no indication that his spell had saved him from Eighty-five's own fate. The blond seawife saw no other course of action. She took one step towards Terminus and raised her pistol and the Captain's revolver and fired. One-two. One-two.
"Coverin'!" She shouted, both guns raised though her own pistol was empty and only the Captain's revolver kept firing its last three bullets. Then both her pistols hissed the dead man's click. Terminus turned upon her, as the blond had placed herself between the Garlean and Eighty-five's body. He raised his gunblade in reply as P'welro raced to reload.
The heavy shot rang out. Cynthia's blind, last resort foiled as a strong forearm found its way around Sounsyy's neck and pulled her off of the bloody Garlean just in time. Sounsyy struggled against her assailant only to realize it was Fhruhsunn she was fighting against. The muted Roegadyn had pulled himself out of her cabin and back into the fray. His shirt was stained dark with blood and he was heavily favoring his left side. The short, labored breaths he drew did not seem to extend the right side of his chest fully.
When Sounsyy again tried to break free, Fhruhsunn hurled her to one side, uncoiling his strong arm from around her neck. The Captain rolled across the deck and the Roegadyn turned his attention to Cynthia who was now frantically trying to reload. Fhruhsunn smacked the gun away from the injured woman's grasp with the back of his hand, leaving the woman defenseless. She tried to get up and run, but Fhruhsunn's hand grabbed the woman by her face, pulled the woman towards him slightly, then sent her head crashing back into the edge of the gunwale with a crack.
The Garlean slumped against the edge of the gunwale in a daze, blood streaming down her face, her eyes gazing ahead blankly. This was the end, she may have thought in that moment. The Roegadyn's face went dark and he reeled back with a fist and began pummeling the woman's face once, twice, three times before Sounsyy barked at him.
"Fhruhsunn!" She shouted, slowly picking herself up onto her unsteady feet. The Roegadyn froze in mid swing and looked over his shoulder with a tired expression at his captain. She was about to shake her head and call him off when the sound of shattering glass brought her attention to the other vessel. A Hyuran form was thrown from a window onto the deck below. Screams and gunshots began ringing out on the other ship. The Captain took a short breath, looking between Fhruhsunn and Cynthia.
"Gimme yer pistol!" She ordered Fhruhsunn, who complied wordlessly, "Now go! Get them off that ship!"
Fhruhsunn nodded, lifting his hands from Cynthia's crumpled form, and made his way as quickly as he could onto the enemy's deck. His hand clutched his right side tightly as he lumbered away.
"FOLLOW HIM!" Sounsyy barked to anyone within earshot. There was a rush of feet along the planks, but Sounsyy's hearing was distorted and ringing. She felt dizzy as she turned back to face Cynthia. The deck around her spun slightly. With one hand loosely gripping her shortsword and the other fingering the trigger of Fhruhsunn's pistol, Sounsyy approached the crippled traitor. Slowly, she eased herself down onto one knee before the woman. Their eyes met, both pair empty and unfeeling. Until Sounsyy drove her shortsword down into Cynthia's knee. The traitor's eyes came alight with anguish and tears.
Sounsyy gripped the shortsword's handle firmly in her hand and tried to wiggle the blade, but it was lodged firmly into the Roehmerl's deck. Sounsyy shifted her weight from left leg to right, easing herself forward so she now knelt on her right leg. Her right boot crushed Cynthia's left hand under-toe. Cynthia winced as the pain climbed up her body but she was thoroughly pinned.
Cynthia made to speak, to utter out her last words, her last quip, some haunting confession, or rehearsed monologue - but Sounsyy clamped her now-free hand over the woman's mouth before she could whisper a syllable. Sounsyy's three fingers and thumb left deep depressions in her cheeks. Sounsyy said nothing, just kept her eyes glowering down at Cynthia's. Sounsyy withdrew her hand from Cynthia's mouth and for a brief moment the woman thought she was going to be allowed to say her last. But Sounsyy hand only moved up to her forehead, firmly shoving it back so her neck craned backwards. Cynthia's mouth gaped open like a fish out of water but before she could let out her last defiant noise, Sounsyy brought up Fhruhsunn's pistol and held it at a downward angle against Cynthia's jaw and fired.
The traitor let out a high-pitched, gurgling screech. The bullet had shattered the left side of her jaw, dislocating the distal portion of the bone from where it connected to the rest of her skull. Blood began seeping from the wound and the deep graze the bullet had left across the underside of her chin. Her jaw hung loose and every quick, panicked breath Cynthia took she felt the broken bone shifting painfully in her mouth.
Sounsyy set the pistol aside and brought both hands to caress the sides of Cynthia's face, like one might cradle a lover. But Cynthia was anything but. She had betrayed the Resistance. She had betrayed her nation, her people, her pride. To Sounsyy, there was no greater dishonor. It had been nearly seven years since she last tortured a man. Sounsyy did not believe in prolonging one's death. Thal had been prolonging her own for twenty years and it was a fate she did not wish upon others. But Cynthia had forsaken her people's struggle for comfort, pleasure, and power. Sounsyy had twenty years of penance to inflict while the traitor still clung to life, still clung to that glimmer of hope that she might survive this. Sounsyy was going to relish watching this glimmer fade from her eyes.
Sounsyy shifted her hands slowly across Cynthia's face. Her right palm rested against the traitor's forehead. Sounsyy's left, injured hand slid slowly down the woman's cheek until the tips of her fingers rested against the part in Cynthia's lips. Then she slid her fingers inside Cynthia's mouth, and pulled down savagely against the top of her teeth until the traitor's jaw began to unhinge and extend beyond what her anatomy would normally allow. Cynthia began to writhe and shriek pitifully as Sounsyy continued to slowly separate her lower jaw from the rest of her face. Her tongue flopped uselessly as the muscle began to tear and detach. Blood welled up in her mouth and her shrieks began to bubble.
Cynthia began to writhe more violently, but Sounsyy was now straddling the woman. Her left knee dug into her right hip. Her right boot still crushing her left hand. The sword still secured the one knee that might have been able to dislodge the Captain from her position. Even Cynthia's free hand was powerless to do anything but slap weakly at her torturer's thigh. Sounsyy's process was calculated and methodical. She felt no remorse for this, this time. There might have even been the faintest moment of erotic pleasure in the act when Cynthia's jaw finally came free with a loud pop. Cynthia's free hand gripped the Miqo'te's thigh tightly since she could no longer grit her teeth against the pain. Sounsyy withdrew her hands and watched as the woman wailed with her lopsided jaw. It hung too low on her face now, the skin of her cheeks was stretched and bruising.
"Yeh called us savages," Sounsyy said in a hoarse voice, "Savages ain't even the half of what we've been reduced to."
Cynthia just wept quietly. Sounsyy slapped her jaw, which snapped her focus back to attention with a sharp moan. Sounsyy grabbed her chin and directed her gaze back up to meet her own. Only the jaw now moved independently, and when she pulled up the teeth met unevenly with a painful-sounding grating. She held Cynthia in that position for another moment as she searched those treacherous eyes for any glimmer of hope. Seeing none, Sounsyy moved in for the kill.
P'welro had only managed to reload three shots into the revolver by the time Terminus had trained his gunblade on her. She gave a cry and in a flurry she drew the semi-loaded revolver against him, but before either one could fire, another loud shot echoed over the den. A heavy caliber round ricocheted off the outstretched gunblade, sending its aim off mark.
Marjanie strode defiantly across the Garlean deck, her long barrel rifle trained on Terminus. Her left hand held the barrel's aim steady while her right pulled the bolt and inserted another round. All the while she placed one foot in front of the other, marching and firing again, this time striking his armored shoulder, sending him back. P'welro fired upon him as well, exhausting what little she had managed to reload.
"Pull back t' the Roehmerl! We can't kill 'im, we'll sink 'is arse!"
"Pull back!" Marjanie echoed P'welro as she fired off another heavy round. A Garlean rushed her from the side as she continued her steady approach, but one of the remaining lancers aboard the vessel intercepted the assailant and gutted him before he could reach her. The Lominsan crew had formed a clear line of retreat for the Sharlayans, though their attention could not yet be torn from Eighty-five.
Fhruhsunn brushed past Marjanie to where P'welro was defending Jada, Ryanti, and K'leura. He grabbed Ryanti by the shoulder roughly and tried to pull him away from Eighty-five's body, but the Roegadyn was too drained. Ryanti seemed in shock. Fhruhsunn looked to Terminus, who had rounded on Marjanie. He knew that more lives were at stake if they stayed there. So he grabbed Ryanti again by the shoulder and pulled him around to face him. Fhruhsunn wanted to yell at the boy, tell him that they had to go, tell him that he would take the girl. But Fhruhsunn's yelling only came out as garbled nonsense. His gaping mouth revealing to Ryanti that Fhruhsunn no longer possessed a tongue - that only a torn stub of one remained, as if it had been violently removed sometime long ago. It was not like him to expose his shame so visibly, but they had to move and maybe screaming would do the trick, even if no sense could be made of his words.
Jada sensed the urgency in Fhruhsunn's actions and snapped back from her dark place of seclusion. P'welro was also now in danger, Marjanie, Fhruhsunn. So the Keeper called upon the last of her strength and began to heave Eighty-five's body back across the deck, sliding away from Terminus's approach. Fhruhsunn pushed Ryanti in the direction of the Roehmerl and moved to aid the Quartermaster. He hooked his good arm underneath Eighty-five's arm and began to drag her as best he could across deck with Jada's help.
A shout nearby caused Fhruhsunn to look up in alarm. A Garlean soldier ran at them with his battleaxe drawn. But Fhruhsunn's legs felt like lead and he could barely pick himself up to get to the marauder before he reached Jada. An arrow cut the Garlean down as he neared. Susuroon stood upon the Garlean gunwale, bow still drawn. His big, sad eyes fell upon Eighty-five but the Qiqirn could find nothing to say. His little chest just heaved and he pulled another arrow.
Fhruhsunn and Jada were so close now. Only a couple yalms lay between them and the safety of the Roehmerl. But Fhruhsunn's strength was spent and he collapsed from exhaustion. Susuroon looked down at the bloody Roegadyn and gave a worried squeak, and as if to answer, Pamido Wolmido and Berasaem were there to pull them to safety.
Marjanie and P'welro were falling back now as well. Terminus had rounded upon the pair and was closing the distant, his amused laugh carrying across the ship as he imagined their demise. His back was now turned to Sixteen. His attention fully on the retreating musketeers. Terminus raised his gunblade once more, finally done toying with the Lominsans. That was when Susuroon saw them - dark shapes moving in the water. That's when Susuroon's long ears heard their call to battle - that bubbly Bloodcant that made his hairs stand on end.
"HIT THE DECK!" The panicked Qiqirn squeaked at the top of his lungs before throwing himself flat on his face onto the deck below. Every member of the Roehmerl's crew who were still on their feet quickly abandoned whatever they were doing and threw themselves down to lay flat on the deck, some leaving bewildered Garleans mid-fight.
A moment of silence seemed to hang in the air as the noise of the Sea was suddenly absent. Then all sounds returned as the very sea came alive to attack the two vessels. Suddenly, a dozen elbsts bearing Sahagin riders propelled themselves from the waters surrounding both ships and onto the boats. The Sahagin dismounted in mid flight and dove down ontop of the still-standing Garleans with their spears extended. Some crashed bodily into the imperials and grappled with them tooth and claw across the deck until they tumbled off the other side into the brine below. The elbsts snatched whole soldiers in their jaws and ripped them back and forth before throwing them into the waters and slipping off the deck after them, only to emerge from the bloody waters to hunt anew. The sound of the Sahagin's gurgling clicks and hissing seafoam fueled the battle now between Sahagin and Garlean while the Roehmerl's crew lay flat or fetal against the deck and either played dead or pressed themselves back against the gunwales while the Sahagin propelled themselves overhead.
But even the Roehmerl's crew knew that soon the Sahagin would turn on them.