[Event] Churning Tides

[Plot Device]

"No matter what comes, we must defend the ship!"
The swell of magic built like a pulse. Every other second there was a faint ripple through the air around the ship as the Merchant Prince, his second arrived companion Narzim, and the Etrurian mage began to project their joint magics. Until it swirled upwards and made it impossible for their traveling vessel to be impeded by fog. The winds bulged the upper sails and the ship began to lurch forwards some, until it abruptly jerked to a groaning halt. A sudden stop that shook the ship to its core, despite the wind that spurned the vessel westwards. The trio of mages, like many aboard stumbled or faltered briefly at the abrupt halt before the largest of the trio, Narzim spoke to their employer between grit teeth.

"Zubayr.."

The younger Nabatan extended his hands and shouted to the duo at his side. "Now!"

A colossal gust of wind erupted. Far stronger than the others and it projected like a single expanding field. A vast gale that roared briefly with singular ferocity as it surged from the ship like a ripple upon still waters. Outwards, it pushed every inch of the veiled fog that had been obscuring sight. Opening a view of what would've been a heavy darkness. The light that cast view on almost everything outwards was a sickly one. The bright orange glow of two vessels a sizable distance apart, shadow illuminated by twin burning ships in such a way that it almost gave an Ethereal glow. The glow came from the base. Despite the flames atop, lengthy segments of ice seemed to cling to the ship. As if the sea itself had been frozen. The light cast from the ice projected a near blinding orange glow. At the side of either ship a pair of vessels had flanked them. Sails black as the nighttime waters they churned with holes torn through and though it had dimmed, the ring of metal could still be heard. The churning of the sea to the starboard side of the trade vessel gave notice as a smaller tattered ship, not unlike the pairs that had ambushed the burning ones, was sailing near full speed. Ahead of them though..a colossal war barge. A rotting hulk draped in algae, worn and warped by immeasurable time. The masts towered and its sails dwarfed those of the other ships. Each one emblazon with symbolic beasts of myth, stained of crimson shade. At the tip of its colossal skeletal figurehead, a single body. Cloaked partially in darkness and cast in the waxing hue of orange glow. Eyes visibly burning red. As if death itself, had arrived.

[Remus]

---

How sneaky. How so sneaky of them. Blowing away the fog. Perhaps they'd trapped something larger than a rabbit! A single warbling noise boomed out, from atop the figurehead. The undead pirate laughed with unfettered amusement. The now motionless trade vessel was subjected to a second jarring impact as the approaching rotting ship nearly rammed into it's starboard flank full speed. The Almost hysterical undead continued to revel in the carnage before lashing through the air abruptly with a single cutlass in his left hand, and echoing a shout of overwhelming rage twice as loud. His voice, guttural, and warped, tore into the night with a volume of unnatural intensity. As if he shouted from aside every listener. "TURN THE SEA RED!" The protruding figurehead from the assailing ship was used as a boarding point as undead began to run with ghoulish delight. Shouts, grunts, and guttural attempts to speak words of vicious mockery pierced the night as dozens of skeletal and zombie deck-men fell, stumbled or leapt to the trade barge. From the monstrous barge above, three undead joined the dread captain upon the bulbous top of the figurehead.

One stood silent. The second tugged at blades tucked beneath the tattered coat barely still attached to his butchered torso. A third pulled to his hands a bow. The string aglow with a faint orange light. The captain spoke with words. He, spoke with flame. Fingers grazed from the grip backwards as if knocking an arrow, and a purple aura ignited in addition to the flame. The spirits wept into an ethereal darkness as the void merged with the fiery magic, an arrow birthed from such a union like a tide of darkness. The undead sniper managed to steady himself down to his right knee despite the rocking tide, and took aim. Fire and Shadow screamed as the magic bolt was loosed, colliding with the gold inlaid figurehead of the Sultan's Fist. Right above the point where the top figurehead jutted out into the air proudly. An inferno swirled at the point of contact as the dark magic rushed inwards, as if it eroded and suctioned everything into a single void, before a thunderous explosion rocked the ship to its very core. With such force that anyone near the prow would've been hurled back effortlessly, even as the arrow erased the beautiful carved, gold adorned figurehead of angelic design from reality itself. Until a cindered gap existed in a seven foot distance from either side of the railings that had once met into the prow.

Again laughter rose, as the mad undead captain drank in the death and fire and madness.

[Vincent]

Everyone had gathered and what should have been a meaningful collection of heroes seemed to be as nothing to what had come for them. No one gave Vincent an order, so he took that to mean act as he saw fit. Fine by him. The hero prepared himself for combat and took a comfortable stance he could still react from. Then the ship lurched. Vincent found himself stumbling forward and into the front of the ship grabbing onto the rails and nearly dropping Phoenix Heart.

'Watch it you idiot!' Phoenix Heart shouted.

'That's not nice. He hit that side pretty hard.' Phoenix Heart retorted.

'Shut up you useless piece!' Phoenix Heart argued. Ever since bringing a second piece of the sword's spirit together they didn't seem to get along. The two parts were vastly different and often bickered causing Vincent a tremendous amount of headaches.

Vincent did feel silly for having lost his footing so badly when others merely shifted their stances or body weight and hardly moved an inch. Even so, this did not keep him from being able to witness the might of three mages combined. To lift the fog in its entirety, he was in awe. But that awe gave way to terror as he gazed upon the other vessels. The sea itself was frozen around the ships. But how could someone freeze the saltwater like this? And so much of it?

'Keep your nerve!' One of the voices snapped Vincent from his daze and just in time as the rotting ship that seemed to sail impossibly rammed them Vincent managed to catch the railing and avoid tumbling over but the reality that these monstrous pirates could attack with reckless abandon struck him to his core. He had theorized there could be an intelligence behind some of the monsters but this proved it, and they knew their every advantage. They were but one ship and trapped still against many. There was no time to think about what the best actions to take would be when the voice called for blood.

Spoken words. And ones filled with what did not seem to be hate but rather a reveling in destruction and death. It was everything Vincent detested in a reason to fight. Monsters jumped aboard the ship from the one that had rammed them. Vincent was grateful they hadn't put a hole into the ship but they seemed to be a good place to start. 'Alright! We're taking a shot at that ship! If we can do damage to it then it may not be as impossibly durable as it seems!' Vincent was preparing to fire a Thani blast when a swirl of power sent a shiver down his spine and drew his attention from one ship to the other.

'Run!' The voices of Phoenix Heart shouted simultaneously and so he did, but not quickly enough. The explosion caught his back, the force of the blast lurching him forward and throwing him hard. His body struck the deck and he rolled violently until his body began to slide under the guard rails. With a desperate reach of his hand he grabbed hold. His body dangling over the iced ocean.

"Blast!" Already he was in another predicament.

[Gar]

Thanks to the wind from the trio of mages, all had been revealed. Taking the bad news first, the two leading ships were on fire while frozen in place. The Sultan’s fist was apparently the next target, already being rammed and besieged by undead monsters. The good news was that the sailors were right, which was, in actuality, bad news but it helped their reputation.

Gar’s legs were practiced enough for him to keep his feet despite the impact from the ramming ship. He made a disgusted face as the rotting abominations crawled over one another to pour onto the ship. Gar examined the unfolding encounter further, turning his head to find an undead trio appearing alongside a fourth who appeared to be giving the orders. That… thing was the one behind all this terror on the seas. Kill him and the seas would be clear for Gar to operate. Clear, aside from the various naval forces around, but that was a different fight.

Now that Gar knew what he was up against, he could formulate a plan. One of his remarkably simple plans. He had fought the zombie creatures before, more than he would’ve liked. He had learned things about them. There was something so clear about the undead. They’ve died once, they’ll die again. The only real difference between them and a living army is the sheer number of foes. Only thing to do now is cut down their numbers.

Gar engaged a bonewalker who held a cutlass high above its head. The enemy swiped downward, Gar positioned his oversized axe to allow the cutlass to slide against it. Gar responded with a strength boosted, off handed, palm strike that shoved the lightweight skeleton off its bony feet. The berserker rose his axe to end his first enemy of the battle. Unfortunately, the ship got rocked by an explosion. Even Gar’s sea legs stumbled from the force of the explosion. The bonewalker was sent sliding across the slick deck of the ship. A certain white haired hero slid as well, catching himself off the edge of the ship. He’ll be fine. Gar was more concerned with the remnants of fire mixed with darkness. Corrupt abominations, roaming the seas, wielding corrupt magic. Gar wondered if there was anything that would be more of an affront to him.

Gar was forced to refocus on the enemy leaders. The undead captain and his three apparent commanders watched the fight from above. Gar did his best to pin each one’s defining characteristics, in case they joined the fight and got lost among the swarming undead. Only two really stood out at the present moment. Dead captain, and dark fire bowman.

The bowman’s strike and choice of magical augmentation angered Gar. Still, the plan didn’t change much. “Clear the deck, and don’t get hit by that bowman.” Gar spoke mostly out of habit. He engaged with another cutlass wielding bonewalker. It could’ve been the same as before. The berserker couldn’t be sure as it is difficult to discern one bleached skull from another.

[Edgewind]

There was no time to gawk at the carnage in the sea before him. No, indeed there were more ships present than just the ones laying waste to the two preceding vessels. To make matters worse, the flagship itself was bearing down on the Sultan’s Fist. These were no mere pirates. The foul stench of rot and death pervaded the air in spite of the great winds spurred from the efforts of the mages. This was far worse than pirates. After recovering his balance from the violent halt of the ship, Shane sprang into action. To prevent being overrun or surrounded, he fell back as he drew his blade.

The foes were pouring onto the Sultan’s Fist like a swarm. Shane found himself face to face with the toothy grin of a bonewalker, kelp plastered across its ribs like a garment. The hollow sockets of its skull stared into him as if the long-decayed eyes that once inhabited them were still there. It unnerved the rogue, truthfully, though clenched teeth helped steel himself against the undead foes.

“Time to send you lot back to the sea where you belong!” Shane spat at the skeletal swordsman, swiping the steel blade across its ribcage. Chips and fragments of bone flew outward from the impact and a gash was left in the blade’s wake but nothing seemed to change otherwise. The bone arm raised a rusted cutlass in retaliation, swinging it forcefully at the rogue. Shane defended with a flash of steel, the two blades clashing with a metallic clang. The undead foe forced his sword with surprising strength, easily greater than that of an average swordsman. It was neither his own power or his opponent that broke the deadlock, as an explosive force sent Shane staggering sidelong away from the prow.

Another blow rained down from the skeleton, met with another counter swing of Shane’s sword. The rogue was able to deflect it to the side and took the opportunity to throw a punch into the jaw of his opponent. It was like hitting solid bone. Well of course it was like hitting bone. Shane shook his hand, clenching and unclenching his left fist, attempting to relieve the flash of pain that resulted. The skull of his attacker twisted to the side, the lower jaw hanging freely from one side. Disgusting.

Shane pressed his offensive with a forceful slash, stepping forward as he brought the blade back against the ribcage once more. A few ribs shattered or were sheared off completely, but the bonewalker remained undaunted and sneaked a thrust in before the rogue could prepare a defense. It was reduced to a minor gash by the limited shift in posture Shane was able to pull off. A trade off then. How do you kill what was already dead to begin with?

[Dietrich Landrik]

The glow and din of battle in the distance was quickly dispelled as the mist cleared, revealing the ships already dealing with boarding actions. Ballistae were only able to get off a single direct shot before the crews were overrun. As the mist swirled, he caught a large object moving in his periphery vision. When he saw it, it was too late to appropriately react other than to reel backwards.

The ship, with unnatural speed, closed in on the vessel. "Pirates on Starboard! Closing too fast! Brace!" Landrik was quickly cut off as he was tossed from his feet by the jolt. He's never seen such suicidal boarding like that in his life. It was with horror that he found out why as piles of rotting men slumped onto the deck, groaning and reaching out for them. A man to his right had no chance as five of them dove on him and ripped him to pieces. "F-F-Fff-Form a line. Form a line!" Dietrich tried to steady himself. He had dealt with these before in the trenches of the City of Heroes!

Though as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a skeleton donning armor deftly closed in with the marine and swiped at him with a broken cutlass. The leading edge caught his armor and drug him slightly down as just the blunt force brought him to his knees. As he looked up at the soulless eyes of his assailant, a sudden explosion once more to his right sent splintered boards and iron fittings all over the deck - luckily beheading the skeleton. The form still stood as it swung wildly at him. A hand reached the back of his collar and jerked him back towards familiar faces.

"Oi, Landy! Grenades, damn it! Get 'em while they're all clumped up!" Berg shouted, the large man hoisting him up on his two feet. Dietrich understood immediately and fumbled for his grenade pouch on his waistbelt. Looking off to his side he could see Keppler punting an undead off of a hapless sailor with his shield. Fuchs was already harassing with his halberd and Berg was trying to find a decent spot to start using his bow from.

The putrid smell mixed with fire and sea salt helped snap the Marine back to reality. He saw a tuft of white hair at his feet along with two hands holding onto the railing of the gunwale. He quickly reached down to lend a hand. "Oi, hold fast! You've got a better chance up here being ripped to giblets than you do in the fathoms! Pull yourself up, lad!" Landrik shouted, grabbing at one of the arms of the clinging man. If he was able to get a good grip, he'd heave him up onto the deck so they could both return to the fight.

[Duma]

Duma was simultaneously prepared and not prepared for the horrors that loomed in front of him. No, he like most folks on this ship expected the pirates to be actual pirates. Human bandits of the sea that sowed the seeds of fear by the mere mention of their names. The captain and his two mages did excellent work in clearing out the fog and giving those on board a clear sight of their attackers. Undead pirates. A massive ship that looked as if it was raised from the depths of the sea itself. The rumors were true. The massive undead ship rammed the trading vessel. The impact was enough to knock Duma out of his stance, but he quickly recovered.

He looked back up onto the deck and saw that there were a small horde of undead, on their deck. Duma made a motion to charge forward and protect the merchant king. To protect his boss as what was mandated by the terms of his contract. The first undead man to cross his path was partially rotted corpse with a rusty cutlass. Their swords clashed and Duma could feel that these undead had a strength about them that rivaled that of a mortal man. Do not get hit. Their swords let out a clear clang into the air. It was strange sensation. This bone walker was almost as fast as he was. Their swords continued to ring out into the air and they were almost evenly matched. But, Duma knew this bonewalker wouldn't last long. He knew that at any moment the rusty blade of the cutlass would betray the bonewalker. All he had to do was just wait for that moment, while simultaneously avoiding the other things that were going about on the battlefield. Duma was positioned somewhere towards the center of the ship. In front of him the glorious figure head of the ship's golden idol.

There was a terrible noise that rumbled through the ship and filled the air with the scent of fire. A strange force seemed to pull Duma forwards towards the raging inferno and swirl of what he assumed to be dark magic. The bone-walker in front of him seemed to be immune to the calamity of magic behind it. The raging vortext of magic shifted gears from suck to blow, just as the bone-walker was about to strike downwards towards the swordsman. Duma raised his blade and struck forward. The bone walker's rusty blade finally broke and there was the moment Duma was waiting for. The swordsman quickly did a horizontal strike and smacked the bone walker towards the side of his ship. He kept up the pressure until the bone walker backed itself over the edge and Duma quickly kicked it over.