Twenty thousand years before this age, before even the first elves visited the continent, Jamara was the land of the gods. It was not the land it was today, for the gods were creative, and at times selfish, and shaped it according to their wants and desires. Scorching desert plains sat side by side by arctic tundra, thick forests by an open plain. Isles of fire sat in the center of great lakes, and some parts of the continent seemingly ceased to exist, their divine patron infusing them with such chaos that they were naught but an endless void, slowly sucking even the light and color out of their surroundings. The gods were more numerous then, numbering in the hundreds instead of the mere twenty-six that remain today, and each with the power of a legion of men. For millennia they lived in a sort of harmony, with nothing more than the occasional light quarrel between the most violently opposed among them.

But this was not to last…

The first signs of the conflict to come were subtle, barely even noticed by the wisest and most observant of the deities. Archanaloth, elder brother of Magnagoth and his teacher in the magic arts slowly began changing and expanding his domain. His once verdant green fields blackened gradually over a century, replaced by dark stone and forbidding fortifications. The once ivory walls of his citadel blackened as well, sprouting twisted minarets and elongated spikes.. Such transformations were common however, as without mortals for them to interact with deities commonly changed their desires and purpose when they tired of their former place. What was different about this one however was not the transformation of Archanaloth’s domain but the transformations it spawned among neighbouring deities. One by one their domains slowly became one with his, until it appeared as if fully a third of Jamara was his. Soon other deities became worrisome, but one by one those that spoke out against this expansion vanished, being lost from both the land and the memory of those that once knew them. By the time the others deities took heed of this it was already too late.

The attack came swift and brutal, with Archanaloth leading a force of allied deities and infinite legions of hellspawned demons against any who refused to acknowledge him as the master of all things. The deities closest to his domain were destroyed without a struggle, taken by surprise and mercilessly destroyed, their divine spark absorbed by Archanaloth to further increase his own power. The others deities scrambled to mount a defence, but by the time they had formed a cohesive alliance only a fraction of their original number remained.

Or all the deities left standing the only one to have not taken sides in the conflict was Magnagoth. While he had watched his brother devastate the balance he loved, killing some of his own closest friends, he could not bring himself to fight against his own kin. Archanaloth capitalised on this weakness, personally leading a legion of demons and deities against his brother’s domain. By now the war had taken its toll on both armies with less than one hundred gods remaining, of which half had thrown in their lot with Archanaloth, and this attack away from the main front was the moment the gods had waited for.

While Archanaloth busied himself overcoming his brother’s magical defences, Bultan, Carselt, Delila, and Ragnarok spearheaded a flank attack on the demon legions. Quickly they worked their way through the forces assembled Magnagoth’s keep, and although they lost some of their numbers, they were ultimately victorious, defeating the demon legions and destroying the divine energy of the other gods. By the time Archanaloth had penetrated into the heart of Magnagoth’s sanctum he was the only deity in his grand alliance left standing.

Trapped and outnumbered, Archanaloth turned his formidable power against those that sought to put a stop to his dark plans. So great was his power that he managed to fight the gods to a standstill, killing a handful but ultimately locking the combat in a stalemate. It was then that Magnagoth finally took action.

Still unwilling to fight his brother, yet wanting to stop the conflict, the mighty god of magic did the only thing he could. Taking advantage of his brother’s distracted and exhausted form, Magnagoth summoned all his magical reserves to cast his brother forever into a distant and warped plane. Unable to resist, Archanaloth was torn from the fabric of reality and bound to a twisted plane of madness.

His energy spent, Magnagoth was unable to complete the wards upon his brother’s return, and pleaded with the remaining gods to assist him. They consented, and through their collective will they forged impenetrable seals against not only Archanaloth, but any divine beings from entering Jamara. Their pride and arrogance had cost them greatly, and not one among them had a desire to remain on the now desolate plane. Their wards in place, they did all they could to return the continent to its former glory and creating new creatures to dwell upon it before departing to travel the planes.

But their magic was flawed…

Each had formed their wards from their own will, and as such their own will could break it. With twenty-six different wards in place, it would be impossible for one to return of his own accord, but should all of them desire it at once, such a thing should be possible. Determined that such an event would never occur the gods did nothing, and so it remained until this day.

Over the years this tale was repeated, changed slightly each time, until eventually, it was forgotten…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Month of Light, Day 35, 2384
Approx. 2 Nautical Miles from Camatcha
The air was clear, the wind was strong and the sea was calm, an excellent day for sailing. The bow of The Saucy Wench cut through the surf swiftly and smoothly, much to the delight of its captain. He had business to attend to in Camatcha, and in this business time was almost literally money. They looked to be alright now though, not a cloud in the sky and his shipmate in the crow’s nest had just spied the port town off in the distance. An excellent trip indeed.

Below decks the rooms were dark, lit by small magical lanterns that produced no heat. The smell of tar and rotting wood was omnipresent, as were crewmen walking about and talking about how good it would be to see land for a while. Also in these dark rooms were five travellers who were not a part of the crew. They came from many different walks of life and it seemed they were united in nothing except that all of them had required passage on this ship to reach Camatcha, and from there the rest of the continent of Jamara.

Pacing back and forth in the small room was a medium height man whose slightly pointed ears called him out as a half-elf. His dark hair hung behind him in a ponytail, and his hand rested lightly on the hilt of a rapier resting in its scabbard at his side. Near him was a husky individual dressed for what one would guess would be a lengthy trip through the forest. A bow and quiver lie beside him.

Sitting off to the side, half concealed in the shadows is a feline humanoid wearing a dark robe and hood. Her tail hangs out the bottom of her robe, twitching side to side, probably unconsciously. Not far from her sits a female human, her well worn travelling gear and greatsword making up for her diminutive stature. Her brown hair is shoulder length and moves slightly as she surveys the room.

Across from the rest of the group are the last two individuals in the room. Relaxing casually in a chair is a charming young man probably in his early 30s. He wears finely wrought mithral armor and has both shield and crossbow sitting near him. Next to him is the oddest member of the group. With skin the color of new leaves, the sixth person in the room appears to be more tree than person. Her long twig-like ears hold up her long shockingly white hair that hangs down almost to the ground.

The silence in the room is soon brutally shattered however, by the sound of a bell ringing on deck. The loud clang is soon followed by the cry no one wants to hear while at sea; ”PIRATES SIGHTED OFF THE STARBOARD BOW! PREPARE TO PROTECT THE SHIP!”
(OOC: Ok, started. You may post now and do what you will. For those that know what I’m talking about, please do not light the ship on fire or kill a dolphin. Also, 3 pages in word…brain hurts.)

Though it was the ingenuity of these humanoids that had crafted this ship, it was the wood that bound it worthy. It was this reminder more than any other, that had made Kumadel feel secure during this voyage. Regardless of the risk, the land of Jamara was far too tempting a treat to refuse.

Her sky blue eyes looked like portals to a plane of peace and purity, as she pondered the origins of her fellow travellers. She had said nothing this entire journey, for she had determined that it was not words that enlightened your understanding of a presence. Words were more often lies than truths. Even in the truth, there were so many recriminations that occurred between the mouth and the ear, such as tone, or context. Nothing ever remained primal with words. This, she felt was the empowerment of action. When someone heard your words, no matter how convincing, there was always room left for doubt. However, when your actions defined your purpose, they were ever the entrenchment of your soul.

Even as peaceful as Kumadel appeared, rocking gently in time with the waves of the ocean, and drowning in her thoughts, she rose to attention immediately at the sounding of a battle. Pirates were a scourge, scandalous and impetuous. They would be a ripe distraction from the long voyage, and a trifling contest for her draconic persona. Grabbing her longspear from the corner, and heading for the door, she made no attempt to employ her fellow travellers. If need be, she would fend off the whole of the buccaneering force by her lonesome. Such was her belief in the strength of her totemic guardian. Without the copper dragon, her path in life would still be filled in by the mists of her past. With it’s strength she had overcome adversity. She invoked in her all aspects of the creature. His do good zeal included. There were innocents aboard, and though she cared nothing for the legal precedents of piracy, she knew that they were most certainly up to no good. Thus, they were prey to her spear.

Up the stairs she leapt, three steps at a time, until her body had been embraced by the days sun, and the salty sea breeze. She scanned the horizon for the location of the water rats, not knowing exactly what the direction aft was, and began to stalk the deck like a feline preparing to pounce. She smiled as she awaited the nearing ship, thinking to herself, “Come have a try, the pleasure is all mine.”

The ship creaked gently as it rocked over another swell. Raen toyed with the whistle at her neck. The cool and light metal made a dull sound as the cork ball inside knocked around.

The journey to Camatcha wasn’t an overly difficult one, being only a short sail across the sea. Many traders and merchants offered passage to other travelers for services as crew or security. Or gold.

Raen’s gloved hands returned to the wooden bench where she sat, propping up her shoulders as she hunched forward and rocked with the ship. If nothing else it was a soothing sensation and one she enjoyed as much as she feared.

There were other travelers this time. There were five to be exact or at least four since one seemed more akin to the planks of the ship than to the humans who crewed her. Raen had never bothered to talk to any of them during the journey. There wasn’t anything to talk about. Their business was theirs and hers was hers without reason to share it with the whole bloody world.

She had sized them up, though, and she didn’t feel any inclination that they meant any harm to the ship or her. Everyone mostly kept to their own thoughts especially the cat-creature who rarely drew back her hood. There was a forest ranger, as well, with a bow and quiver lying beside him. The steady tap of booted feet rapped around the room as the half-elf paced. Apparently restless about something, since he would not stop nor sit down.

Besides those four, there was one other, a relatively attractive man who had worn his mithral chain for some time. Raen unconsciously adjusted the side strap of her breastplate at the thought of armor. She, too, had been wearing her armor for some time.
Thankfully, the sea’s breeze was moist and cool. Unfortunately, the sea’s breeze was moist and salty. She would have to clean her armor and weapons thoroughly once they reached landfall. It hadn’t been more than an hour since the watch had called out sight of land. One of the crew had imparted that they weren’t fair from Camatcha’s port now.

“Would you just sit?” Raen blurted to the half-elf. “Your incessant pacing-“

But before she could finish her annoyed outburst, a call came down again from the crow’s nest high above them and the hold.

“Pirates! Spotted off the aft bow!”

Raen let out a sigh and tucked her pack under the bench, securing it by wedging her own quiver between it and the bench. She moved swiftly with a practiced hand, gathering the oiled bowstring and setting her bow-stave against the inside of her thigh to string it. Her short bow would not be of much use but she took a few arrows up with her as she ascended the ladder to the deck to catch sight over the back of the ship of their pursuer.

“Looks like we’ll be able to earn passage after all,” stated Raen as she plunked down her steel helm over her head and notched an arrow.

((Clarification: she is not “tiny” in size, as she is 5 foot 4 inches in height. She looks almost like a teenage boy in armor with the helmet on))

Katriana Felinar was a sight to behold. As the only member of her race she had ever encountered, she spent most of her life looking for others of her kind. When the immediate search was not available, such as the time spent passing on this vessel, she spent it in quiet contemplation. Long ago had Katriana cast off the strange looks and ostracism she often received from the ignorant or the fearful. Years ago it would have bothered her, the glances and comments would have given cause for her fur to crawl, her claws to extend, and the young feline to lash out at the world who so rejected her. Fortunately, after a spell in prison, and the kindly--and timely-- arrival of a traveling paladin taking her under his custody and charge, Katriana learned to think of her uniqueness not a burden, but a blessing in disguise.

Joining the crusade against evil under the tutelage of paladin master Pious Kael, Katriana traveled across the breadth of the world delivering those who could not protect themselves from the ravages of the world. For years she traveled abroad searching outwards for her meaning while ridding the land of those of ill intent. Recently however, Katriana had felt something growing inside her that fighting under another just wasn’t quelling. Katriana had decided that to best help others, she first had to truly understand herself. To strengthen the outside, she first needed to strengthen her heart, her resolve. Thus, she had departed her dear tutor, mentor, and friend--truly her salvation--to aid others in the strange barren land of Jamara.

So here she sat in the recesses of shadow creeping out from the bowels of this ships cabin room. She was not alone, as 5 others sat or paced in waiting alongside her, each with the guise of an adventurer. Katriana’s green eyes pierced the dim light with ease, and she glanced about the others, noting their reaction to her one by one. Surely none had ever seen one such as her before, but she had come to accept that. Her tail twitched under the folds of her robes, her whiskers moved as well… something ill was on the horizon. Katriana had felt this voyage a bad omen from the onset, but the more her instincts told her danger was about, the stronger her resolve became in knowing she was headed in the right direction. For at the heart of evil was where she would test herself, and truly find her purpose.

”PIRATES SIGHTED OFF THE AFT BOW! PREPARE TO PROTECT THE SHIP!”


Katriana licked her dark lips at the call to battle. She slowly raised herself from the corner of the room, her form melding with the shadows and her black robes with ease. She moved towards the stairs that would lead topside, she flowed across the floor like a shadow cast by a candle. Up the stairs she moved with grace fluidity until the bright of day washed over her. Rounding the stairwell she moved towards the back of the ship, sticking to the wall of the bridge house or similar structure, happy to have reason to stretch her legs.

Nebulos paces the ship along both the port and starboard sides, impatiently waiting land. He did not like to be above so much water as the Oceans held creatures that even his studies may not have learned him. Not to mention the constant waves were a constant bother to his stomach which seemed to fall through the floor at every strong wave the boat crossed. His feelings on the matter were moot however, since the journey was unavoidable and he was there whether he liked it or not. At least the journey so far has been uneventful he thought to himself as his thoughts were quickly interrupted.

Pirates!
You have got to be joking! Nebulos thought as the declaration echoed through the ship. Just what we need. But I hope these Pirates have come prepared. They aren't going to take this ship without a fight, and with the arcane power surging through Nebulos body, they stood little chance against him. Bring em on! Nebulos declared moving into action Show me the Pirate ship approaching and I'll send them a stern warning before they even get close!
Nebulos moved toward the aft of the ship and prepared a spell that he knew would innerringly miss. Looking for an obvious leader or co-leader of the pirate contingency to launch a volley of stinging arcane missiles at.

Lheriel paced back and forth beneath the ship. The smell of rotting wood and salted beef permeated the air all around them. It was a smell accustomed to almost every ship, along side the salty sea and dead fish.

But he did not pace because of the bad smells, he was pacing on account of his extremely large hatred of vessels. You'd think someone who came from a very large trading guild would love ships, but no. Not ever since the dreaded day where life as he knew it was thrown over board and cast aside like a dirty grease rag. That day he decided he would venture abroad and have the life he has now. One of adventure and exploration.

He tossed his loose pony tail behind him again as it eased its way over his shoulder again.

His dark leather armour and boots, contrasted with his white tunic and dark green pants. His short sword slung at his left hip, while his rapier to his right. He was anxious, and ready for battle, making sure everything was inplace, incase he needed to use them. One of the last times he was on a ship he was unprepared and couldnt do anything about it. That would not happen again.

He looked over at his friend Jeskell, who he met in a long forgotten city. Ever since then they had become friends, along with the hawk on his shoulder. His skill with the bow was and will always be very useful, and he was glad that they were together. Jeskell looked up and they shared a smile while he tucked in his chain shirt, his brown hair and eyes all the same looking at his hawk, Henry.

Scanning his vision from Jeskell to the others, he smiled. Atleast if something were to happen, others would be here to help. Unlike with mother.

The next thing to slip into his mind before that horrid memory was the word pirates. Lheriel's ears perked up and he instinctively drew both his rapier and sword. Jeskell shot up to, clammering for his bow and arrows. The finely crafted recurved bow sitting in the corner was quickly acquired.

Together they ran up the stairs with the others, ready to fight any of these evil, heartless marauders of the sea to the death.

" Jeskell, this is for all the things I've told you about in our travels. Little by little, justice feels like its been served."

(( Lheriel will draw rapier in main hand, short sword in second, and use both to full effect for full round attacks against the pirates. Jeskell will use bow to fire at any missile threats first, like magic or other archers. if not, then just some random threating pirate. ))

”PIRATES SIGHTED OFF THE STARBOARD BOW! PREPARE TO PROTECT THE SHIP!”
The sudden appearance of the scourge of seas had a profound effect on the crew of The Saucy Wench. Before the six below deck could so much as move the sounds of panic were obvious with the ceiling above them creaking as the sounds of footsteps running atop it echoed through the halls. In the time it took the six of them to rise from their seats they had already seen five sailors run both down and up the stairs leading to the deck. Either they were well trained and gathering necessary equipment, or they were scared out of their wits.

Kumadel was the first to react, her shockingly white hair flowing behind her as she bolted toward the door, just barely dodging another sailor wildly rushing a small crate down the stairs. She burst out onto deck, slightly confused but still ready for action and crouching into a combat pose. Scouring the horizon, she finally spotted the ship not to far from the right of the ship. Although she herself was no nautical expert, the speed it seemed to be travelling appeared extremely fast, and it would surely overtake The Saucy Wench before it could get nearer to the protection of change. She gave a small smile as she saw it. She would get to test her prowess this day.

Hot on her heels were the two other ladies below deck, Raen and Katriana. Glad to be out of the small room and away from the constant pacing of the half-elf, Raen was up on deck swiftly, bow in hand and quickly spotted the approaching ship. Well it was clearly out of range of her shortbow for now it would be nearer soon and she readied her bow to loose arrows at the approaching targets. In sharp contrast to her was Katriana who had cautiously emerged from below deck and the shadows into the bright light above deck. She moved softly and soon had he back against the outer wall of the large room that served as a captain’s quarters.

Nebulos was next on deck, and the mage had already readied a spell to help protect the ship. The arcane energy surged through him and he felt the magic missile ready itself for release. However, the ship was just far enough out of reach that he could not identify any targets and so he kept the spell stored in his mind.

Bringing up the rear were the pair of Lheriel and Jeskell. The half-elf had drawn his pair of blades and his companion had his bow drawn and an arrow in place. They emerged on deck, but like the others were still unable to begin the inevitable combat.

The pirate ship drew in closer and the keen eyes of Lheriel picked out some discrepancies immediately. True the ship flew the flag of one of the foul brigands of the sea, but the quality of it was poor, as if the flag had been stitched together by an unsteady hand. Also, his experience as a member of the trading guild proved useful as he was able to identify the ship by the name on its bow. The Guilded Seal had visited his home just months ago and he was quite sure that it had not been for piracy. Before he had a chance to voice his concerns however, a magically amplified voice boomed across the waves.

”CREW OF THE SAUCY WENCH! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SAVE YOUR LIVES! SURRENDER Y’ER CARGO AND SAIL FREELY!”
The crew looked back toward the captain, who defiantly called out a reply, despite the fact that it would never be heard.

”You want our cargo? COME AND GET IT!”
His yell was nearly silenced entirely by the wind as the second ship pulled up alongside.

(OOC: The ships are roughly 10ft apart. The ships are of equal size being about 35ft by 15ft. On your ship are the 5 of you, jozan’s cohort, six sailors and the captain. From what you can see the pirate ship has 6 men on deck and another in the rigging. They have boarding planks and grappling hooks on their ship. You have neither. COMBAT! Make sure you actions are detailed at least in the Q&A so I’m absolutely sure what you’re doing.

Also: Congrats to jozan for getting no less than 2 20's on his spot and knowledge checks.)

Kumadel bided her time until the pirate’s vessel came aside The Saucy Wench, and then she sprung from the railing of the ship out into the void between the two buoyant crafts. The leap, to her, was not blind chance. She was born to fly, and simply lacked wings. However, her body seemed made for the fluid flight of her reckless jump. Mid-flight her aura bustled with tumultuous strength, and a phantasmal flame seemed to engulf her for but a moment. Her veins bulged, and her hair fluttered about in wild tangents.

After clearing the gap she makes no effort to gain her bearings, for they were already met. Kumadel was on the ball, spear in hand, and ready to plunge it into the closest foe available. “I shall show YOU the scourge!” she spits as she thrusts her longspear into body of her nearest victim. The day would end here and now, that these pirates offended the seas.

The copper dragon does not hesitate, it understands the chaos of the world, but relishes in it’s dominion above law and order, to focus it’s anarchaic strength upon the purity of kindness and the defence of all things meek and frail. Kumadel would embolden herself to the likeness of these giants, she would strike like a serpent, with the strength of a thousand men, and an unfaltering will. She would be as they, mortal gods.

(Pretty much, she jumps the gap between the two ships, and using a charge if plausible, strikes at the closest enemy when she lands. She has used a swift action to activate her power aura. Either way, charge or no, she strikes out.)

The ship rocked and swayed beneath Katriana’s bare feet, but the agile feline simply swayed in time with the creaking boards beneath her padded feet. The enemy vessel had reared its crude flag denoting piracy, and as it neared, her inner spark of good and justice went off like a silent alarm. Her fur began to stand on end and her nose twitched involuntarily. “This vessel reeks of foulness.” As soon as the vessel had come within 10 feet of their own, Katriana pushed off of the wall of the captain’s quarter’s sending herself into a running charge. With a quick step atop the rail she bent low and pounced across the distance between the two ships, tucking her legs in and landing on all fours continuing in a charge towards a specific target. The worldly feline had encountered pirates before, and though their guise made it hard to distinguish a leader amongst them, she aimed towards the one who seemed most out of place. One with more stature in his pose as though he had seen both stateroom and auction house as well as traveling the high sees, the one whose eyes never stopped moving, though held a cold stare. Towards him she charged, and attacked with all her clawed fury in a vicious swipe.

(I had grugg roll a Skill check for me to see if I would have made the jump, or been posting about a soggy furred kitty… I succeeded so my post reflects that. Grugg I’m making the spot check as discussed, and attacking using my SNA.. You know what that is.)

A blast of salty breeze hit Raen in the face as she stepped out onto the open deck. The breeze brought with it moisture that made her squint to keep the stinging water out of her brown eyes. The last thing she needed was to be blinded before battle.

The pirate ship drew closer and the others who had taken passage on the Saucy Wench emerged as well. Raen kept herself back from the railing at first, observing the others who came up after her. The annoying half-elf was right behind her, accompanied by the one dressed for scouting in a forest. Raen stepped out of the doorway to let them through and quickly noted the approaching ship. It seemed odd, since it was catching them very quickly.

Raen saw everyone else watching the ship, too, and notched an arrow against the bowstring. As she did, a magically enhanced voice called from the approaching vessel.

“CREW OF THE SAUCY WENCH! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SAVE YOUR LIVES! SURRENDER Y’ER CARGO AND SAIL FREELY!”

Raen counted the visible enemies quickly as the ship pulled up alongside them. Only five on deck but there was also one more hanging in the rigging with a crossbow. Something seemed out of place. None of the men wore any armor, which seemed odd for anyone initiating a skirmish, even on the high seas. Certainly Raen didn’t expect anyone to normally traverse the channels in the same heavy metal breastplate that she wore. A single misstep would send you quickly to the bottom. But even studded leather would make more sense than nothing at all.

The magically enhanced voice had to come from a wizard of some type, but Raen couldn’t pick him out from the rest. The two other females who were aboard leapt the gap across the ships, not waiting for their opponents to place down boarding planks or throw the grappling hooks common with boardings. Raen, however, still wasn’t sure how cocky or stupid these pirates would have to be to continue this battle. She kept her arrow notched and drawn now, aimed at the man in the rigging with the crossbow. As the man made threatening motions, though, her hesitation dissolved and she loosed the arrow that she had drawn back to her ear, following that one with another quickly notched and loosed.

((Raen hesitates here, though will loose two arrows at the man in the rigging (full attack). Should you want to do two rounds, she’ll notch another arrow and shoot for any boarders if they come after which she’ll drop the bow back inside the stairs and draw her greatsword.))

As the ship approaches closely Nebulos considers the targets he can observe. Without seeing a clear leader amongst the pirates he releases his magic missile at the ranged combatant. The only one who currently had a chance of hitting any of the ships crew. Filling it with his energy he hoped it would be enough to knock the crossbowman unconscious if not dead altogether.

If Nebulos notices a larger group of Pirates gathered together on the ship, with his next action, they are going to taste a nice fireball of awesome destructive power!

Gheriel readied to take the charge of the enemy.

" Jeskell and I will wait on board here to defend, you others I see have chosen to attack! Good choice, and may lady luck be with you."

He twirled his rapier impatiently, waiting for the pirates to cross over.

Gritting his teeth in silent anger, he gripped his swords tightly, wanting to draw the blood of the would be pirates.

But something was amiss, these people werent pirates for long, as they were just in home port months earlier, a very nice and reliable trading ship. The Guilded Seal was just like any other ship who goes into port. Trades goods and stories and then leaves. He quizzically wracked his brains as to what was going on.

He also squinted at the flag, seeing its poor quality. If they were subject to piracy, it wasnt for very long. A poor flag and...and magic? A loud voice rang out.

”CREW OF THE SAUCY WENCH! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SAVE YOUR LIVES! SURRENDER Y’ER CARGO AND SAIL FREELY!”

This was it, Gheriel had to speak up.

" This ship cant be pirates! They just visited my home mere months ago, what has happened!"

He needed to do one thing, and that was to speak to the enemy captain. He would need to assault the ship, and speak to the captain outright.

He waited for the ship to get close enough, and when it was, he shouted.

" Crewmen and captain of The Guilded Seal! You have visited my homeport a mere few months ago, and you were not pirates! I demand to speak to your captain on the grounds of why you are now reduced to pirating! Perhaps negotiations instead of blood shall flow today!?"

He looked at his comrades.

" Hault my friends, maybe we can resolve this withot violence!"




(( When the ship gets close enough, he will shout this, and when even closer to jump safely on, he will do that. And dont forget half elf racial bonuses when making checks for diplomacy and stuff, I wanna see if we can do this peacefully.))

The Guilded Seal pulled up alongside The Saucy Wench swiftly, and no sooner did it do so than combat was joined. Kumadel and Katriana, two of the first to arrive on the deck, were also the first two to react. The pair of them ran forth, leaping high into the air and easily clearing the gap between the two ships and directly into the midst of their very surprised foes on the other ship. Katriana was recovered smoothly from here leap into a roll and pounced out slamming directly into the chest of the tallest pirate near the back of the group. Her claws extended, and swiftly cut across the face of her foe, leaving a set of parallel gashes deep through his face, one very nearly missing his eye. Kumadel faired less well as in close proximity to her foe she was unable to bring the full power of her spear, despite her training for just such an occasion. Her thrust was easily parried by her foe, and her spear knocked out of her hand onto the deck at her feet.

The pirate before Katriana was the quickest among the pirates to react to those that boarded them, and one hand across his wounded eye he swung wildly at the feline-like woman before him. As could be expected his swing went wide and that wasn’t helped by the graceful dodge by Katriana. Seeing this combat was clearly not going his way the pirate refrained from undoubtedly missing again and instead assumed a more defensive stance.

" Halt my friends, maybe we can resolve this without violence!"
Gheriel’s word’s went unheeded as the combat intensified. Seeing that neither side seemed to be seeking a peaceful solution he moved toward the railing of The Saucy Wench, but it appeared the jump was slightly beyond his capabilities. His compatriot Jeskell and the warrior Raen realised that the battle was joined and wasted no time in turning their bows against the pirate in the rigging loosing 3 arrows in quick succession directly into the brigand’s chest. Without so much as a twitch he went limp, and as he plunged from the rigging into the sea below the tip of not just one but the two of Raen’s arrows emerging from his back.

The remaining pirates looked on in what could only be called a slight bit of fear as their comrade plunged into the brine, but this did little more than convince them that the sooner they removed the boarders from the ship the better. Four of them quickly surrounded the now disarmed Kumadel and did their best to turn the unfortunate shaman into no more alive than the timbers she stood upon. Despite their overbearing numbers they did remarkably poorly, with only two among them landing hits upon the elusive fey, causing some injuries. The remaining pirate turned his attention to Katriana, who seemed to have one of his shipmates backed into a corner. Taking advantage of her split concentration, the buccaneer sunk his blade into the flank of the cat warrior, sheering flesh and fur from the tendons underneath.

Nebulos, virtually alone at the back of the Wench save the captain, turned to his formidable magical training. Casting aside his prepared Magic Missile in favour of something more destructive, he called to mind the incantation for a terrible torrent of fire. With an arcane cry and swift gesture a small bead of redish light darted forth from his finger, finally coming to rest just past Kumadel in the center of the pirates’ deck. For a moment all was silent then a horrible explosion rocked the ship. The burst of flame rushed across not only the Seal but blasted force across the deck of the Wench lighting the rigging ablaze and throwing the mage off his feet.

After the blast had resolved, all but one of the pirates lay dead on the deck, their smouldering remains releasing an oily black smoke into the air. The other was now completely aflame and the sight of him was cast into sharp contrast by the unmoving and bleeding form of Kumadel, draped over a railing on the burning former merchant vessel. Katriana emerged from behind the singed form of her former opponent, apparently untouched by the blast, but now very much aware of the fact that she was standing on a burning ship. Besides Nebulos, those remaining on the wench seemed to have avoided much of the blast my seeking cover behind the handrails, with only minor singes on the lot of them, and although the rigging was aflame, the ship remained sea worthy, saving the group from what would have otherwise been a swift death at the bottom of the sea.

Surrounded, outnumbered and on fire, the remaining pirate seemed to prefer that choice. Without pause he turned and leapt from the blazing vessel into the sea below.

(OOC: See the Q&A…holy f***.)

Such an idiotic blunder! After landing from her incredible leap, she took to making what she had assumed would be short work of the pirate scum. Right off the get go however, she fumbled with her spear, having to use it in close combat, and still perhaps unbalanced from the jump. The pirate whom had been her intended victim parried the blow and knocked her longspear right out of her grasp. Now she was the prey. Three of his comrades came to defend their pirate friend. Kumadel managed to avoid two blows, but alas was injured nonetheless. They struck heavily, gashes that would make scars.

Disoriented from her sudden lack of combat appeal, she raised her eyes to the heavens, looking for a sign, something that might tell her where she had led astray. The dragon charges in and utterly vanquishes her foe. There is no room for softness in the dark nature of the world. Her clumsiness would cost her dearly. Even if she managed to retrieve her spear, the likely hood of victory with such wounds seemed fairly dimished. The clouds parted, her eyes dilated in surprise, watching as a shadow took it's flight from within the cracks. The air stood still... and the sails fluttered to a close. Then suddenly there was a rumble, that grew in intensity until it felt not from without but within. She was knocked breathless, and then a scorching heat consumed her. She did not feel as though she was burning however... she was cold. The wooden railing of the ship was hard, and the trickling of her bloody wounds were all that she could hear. But wait... blood pooled around her face, the dark grey ooze of familiarity dampened her cheek. Kumadel realized that the blood was not from her previous wounds, but that it was erupting from her twig like ears. Her hair darkened as well. An oddity that clued her into what was becoming of the young fae. Though she had never seen the colour of the leaves in the fall, she had been told that they turn from the green that is of the grass, to the orange of a setting sun. It was an appropriate comparison, for like the dying sun, so too were the leaves being laid to rest.

It had been an omen. The shadow in the sky was perhaps her patron leaving her one last look upon a path, a destiny she may have followed. Or perhaps it was the grim of the dragon, come to collect this almost soul. She too was becoming like the leaves of fall. She was browning, and face to face with the autumn of her life. She thought to cry, but found it an impossibility. A dragon would not cry. More than that, no one would cry for her. She knew not her parents, and not her past. She had been an empty shell, until filled with the heart of a dragon's cause. Now she was again emptied, and forgotten she would remain.

As Kumadel's eyes turned to the glamour of glass, the deck was shadowed by the passing of a cloud over the sun, whose tips were as wings, and then all was gone.

For a moment… she was soaring. The salty ocean air brushed across her skin, her fur alive with every brushed hair as she was weightless and impervious to the laws of gravity. She was no longer Savaar, she was avian, her wings outstretched and flying. Alas, what goes up… she came down in a perfectly executed roll, pushing her hind quarters out beneath her sending her directly for the largest of the men. She could smell the sweat of toil and the allure of fear on their brows as she neared, and her target was singular in her mind as she leapt in a cross slash, her claws tearing through skin and flesh with ease, blinding the man. She was so determined to extract the information required of the man before her, she hardly felt the blade sink into her flank from behind. It was only when the blade was so roughly pulled from her flesh did she grimace and arch her back in anger.

Katriana wanted nothing more than to tear his face off, but instinct caused the fur on her neck to raise, and survivalist intuition caused her to grab the blinded man and bring him down atop her a split second before an incredible wave of searing flame passed over the ship. The man atop her, shielding her screamed and writhed in brief agony, before going limp, the scent of burning wood and flesh filling the Savaar’s nostrils. The scent was a potent mixture between campfire and mortuary, and it did little to please the feline’s sensitive sense of smell. Flipping the pirate over, she was disgusted when a portion of his skin tore from his charred body and stuck to her fur with a sickening squelching tear. Do you know how hard it is to get pirate goop out of fur?
There was no time for cosmetic thought however, for her situation was far from safe. The vessel she was on was burning around her, and the other companion who had leapt aboard with her was lying unmoving against the rail of the ship. Katriana gauged she had only minutes before the boat capsized, so she needed to work fast. A life had been lost in valor, and should not have been in vain due to some overzealous magic flinging twit without regard for other’s safety. Who fireballs at close proximity? I’d like to take that man’s quill and stick it right up his.. there were more prudent things to do than reflect on the hefty lecture she had in store for the Wench’s resident pyro. Moving quickly, Katriana searched the fallen man who had served as her shield for anything of value, particularly a coin purse or any definable jewelry that might have survived the blast. The Wench had suffered damage, and Katriana saw fit the pirates help repay at least part of it. When she was done with her search, she moved towards Kumadel. She placed her paws upon her neck and checked for a pulse, but finding none gave a feral hiss across the spans towards Nebulos. She too searched her, removing her rings, necklace, and any form of money that may have survived. Pocketing those, she makes a vow to the woman. “I will find out your identity, and see your belongings passed to your family or next of kin. They will know of your valor.”

A crackling of lumber told Katriana she was almost out of time. Picking up Kumadel’s still form, Katriana had made a spur of the moment decision. Dying in combat was honorable and just, dying from a friendly fired fireball however would not see the fallen at the long table of Ragnarok’s mess. Moving back towards the center of the ship, to allow for a running start, the feline ran and once more attempted to span the gap, to free herself and Kumadel from the confines of a fiery death. There was damages to fix, people to tend too, and a wizard who had better know a raise dead spell if he knew what was good for him. As a Paladin and a Warder, Katriana was the law in a lawless land, and she didn’t think she’d have much trouble convincing the Captain of her case, for surely he would be seeking compensation as well.