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Post by Stage on Mar 26, 2018 7:37:31 GMT
To some, Lall was the most spectacular place in Farrago. Not populated by humans nor any other Lemurian race, its jungles were dense and untamed. Lalli animals were plentiful and did not know to fear outsiders, perfect game for both visiting sailors and monsters. The trees on the island stretched taller than all others on Lemuria, the very largest reaching almost a hundred meters. It was the very picture of a tropical paradise even at night, its white beaches glowing in the moonlight and the trees that pierced the canopy swaying gently in the hot winds that slithered over the warm sea. Just off its idyllic shores though, something else swayed. With two masts and eighteen guns, the Cinnabar was a typical Lexian brig, neither the largest or the smallest ship in the Imperial Navy. Both her sails and hull were ivory white with azure trim: the two national colors of Lexia. Anchored within the vast bay that carved Lall into a crude crescent, half her fifteen-man crew were hunting or gathering edibles in the forest while the rest saw to the her dutifully, hurrying across her deck. Most of the seamen wore dark, plain chest pieces. A handful of others, who seemed to command power over their more ordinary comrades, giving orders and bowing heads with their very presence, wore golden armor and crimson shoulder pads that beamed with authority. However, even these men, these red-shoulders, turned with one fist raised in salute when two more armored persons, both in silver cuirasses and pale capes- a man and a woman so identical in their angular features and tow-colored hair they had to be twins- emerged from the captain's room. The black-armored men, the sable, did the same, dropping whatever they were busy with to stand at attention, right arm raised, elbow at a ninety degree angle, and fist clenched.
" Virnat'sye k rebuti," the woman, the paleback, who had several vicious-looking spears strapped across her back, sneered to the nearest red-shoulder. This seemed to frighten him, as he straightened his already stiff posture and barked sharply to his fellows. In an instant, activity resumed among the sailors, who adamantly refused to lift their heads as they busied themselves. After giving his sister an amused smirk, the male paleback, who carried a lengthy bow and large quiver on one hip, turned and vanished below deck. "Vigr!" the woman barked as soon as he had left. There was a deep, echoing grumble from the crew's quarters. Wood creaked as a humanoid creature, far taller than any man, lurched above deck: a varul with dark fur and a patchy, ratlike tail. It wore no clothes, but bore a heavy chain shirt and thin leather vest dotted by porous, gray studs, like metal scales protecting an earthen red reptile. The varul's brown eyes, only a few shades darker then its pelt, looked down at the woman, who was almost half its size, expectantly. " Druzd utprevolsye visilot'sye v tyar'my, o ye khucha ukhutot'sye," she told it with a haughtiness that defied their comparative sizes. Her tone was explanatory, then turned authoritative. " Prudulzheyti smutrit zdis." It rumbled in reply to the apparent command. " Jáe." Grinning eagerly, the woman twirled a spear from her back and tapped it against the varul's chest. Its nostrils flared in annoyance, causing her to laugh. Whirling away from the wolfish being, she practically leaped down the ship's boarding ramp and made a beeline for the jungle. The sadistic gleam in her eyes and the way she gripped her spear predatorily suggested that she planned to return with something that was no longer alive. Watching the paleback leave with a derisive snort, the varul stalked towards one of the Cinnabar's masts and leaned its considerable weight against it. It groaned in protest. For several hours, it merely oversaw the ship, occasionally flicking its canine eyes to a stray crewman to give them a shock or barring its teeth at anyone who stared too long. Slowly though, the seamen finished their duties and retreated below deck to rest for the night. Likewise, the foragers returned from the forest until only the female paleback had yet to be seen. At the peak of the moon's rise, only the varuk and a few others who were sluggish or had time-consuming tasks remained on deck.
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Post by KayKay on Mar 31, 2018 3:35:12 GMT
The waters of Lall's bay were still in the evening breeze. Small waves lapped at the beach, so gentle that they hardly made it a few feet onto the sandy shore. The wind carried a distant moan from beyond the protected bay that served as a soothing lullaby to the sailors below deck – perhaps the call of a nearby whale. The only oddity in these tranquil waters was a small vertical tube, only a few inches above the water's surface, drifting towards the Cinnabar. It was almost silent in its approach – the only sound from the tube was faint puffs of air, muffled by the gentle waves breaching the shoreline on the other side of the ship.
Once it had reached the wooden hull of the ship, a human head silently emerged from the dark ocean, removing the straw-like tube from their mouth and storing it in a belt still hidden beneath the black surface. The figure bobbed in the water for a moment, observing the slick hull until it found what it was looking for; the chain that anchored the Cinnibar into the sand.
Strong fingers grasped the chain and slowly hauled the shape out of the water, taking care to keep the sound of water dripping from its clothing to a minimum as it climbed anchor's chain, until it could properly reach the gun ports. With a swift leap the shape caught the edge of the gun port and secured itself to the side of the Cinnibar's ivory hull. Green eyes peered behind the cannon and into the dark deck behind. Its vision became adjusted to both the lack of light and the heat signatures inside, and the deck appeared to it in a portrait pale green light; the crew and the few candles still lit outlined in warm colors.
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Post by Stage on Mar 31, 2018 20:33:56 GMT
In the green gradient vision of the intruder, the last few red silhouettes on deck, each human in size and shape, began to turn in, extinguishing the white of candles and the yellow of lanterns as they went. Only the massive figure of the varul, broiling with warmer oranges, remained where it was, a towering sentinel overlooking the greenish landscape. There was one more active heat signature below deck: a red outline surrounded by cooler colored shadows that laid low to the ground in miserable clumps. Most were patchy red edged by flickering greens, cold, but still warm with life. Others, however, were a terrifying shade of uniform blue. The red shape appeared to have singled out and separated a sole green-edged one, which was slumped against a wall opposite to the rest. Every few moments, the red figure would make a particular motion- drawing back one arm, followed by the slight swelling of the autumn outline of its hand, signaling that it spread its fingers perhaps- to which the green-edged shape would respond by flinching.
-
Above deck, the varul, despite his position as sentry, no longer paid any attention to his surroundings, only feinting awareness with roving yellow eyes and flicking ears. He was usually more attentive, not for the sake of his human employers, who he found boorish at best, but in the name of his own professional pride. Tonight was a special circumstance however. His brother, also part of the crew, was missing. This in itself was not unusual. The idiot was well known for being lured away from work by gambling, bets, and alcohol. If he was some paltry human, weak in form and senses, he would never be hired. His innate superiority as a child of the vargar was his only saving grace.
It was not the situation, but the context, that worried him.
The latest raid had been on some bumpkin southern island. The final shore they had visited, the one Sven had failed to return to, dealt more in the type of spirits you could not drink than could, absorbed in its outdated religions. It was on the opposite side of the island than its only large city, the only place he could envision his brother being drawn to, but he doubted that Sven, who had complained unendingly about the heat, the dampness, of these southern regions, had braved the jungle to reach it. The only place he had shown any interest in visiting here was Mival, said to be as multicultural and entertainment-obsessed as their home on the edge of Sund.
The varul sighed suddenly. That was it, wasn't it? Sven had hatched a scheme to reach Mival. Already, he was imagining his brother, idiotic smile on his face, paddling around Matta on a half-assed raft with more leaks than patches.
Mentally calculating the cost to travel from Sund to to London, then fly them both home, the varul mourned his lost money as he ignored the sounds floated from below deck: the heavy breathing of the sleeping crewmen, the shallow gasps of the cargo trying to get any rest, the continual thunk! thunk! thunk! Thrush playing with his victim, the pained hisses and gasps of his prey, and- unknown to him- the scrambling of someone stealthy as a fox onboard...
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Post by KayKay on Apr 1, 2018 8:45:03 GMT
Using the gun ports as a foot hold, the figure latched onto the azure trim of the hull and began to climb towards the rear of the vessel with the grace of a spider. The rubber toes of light boots found grip as they were pressed against the wood by strong legs. Thin fingers slipped into the hidden creases and crevices of the trim and hauled their owner across with strength that betrayed their size. Still, the figure took its time. Careful consideration was taken every movement. Every step was as quiet as a cat's, every sway of its clothing as silent as an owl's feathers, and every breath as noiseless as falling snow. There was too much at stake to risk raising an early alarm.
The distant whale sounded its mournful call again.
The figure soon reached the rear of the ship in moments, and crept up to the large windows of the captain's quarters. Sharp eyes peered inside for body heat and any items of interest...
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Post by Stage on Apr 1, 2018 22:33:16 GMT
There was no life in the sparsely decorated captain's quarters. Despite its size, it was a fairly practical space. Its only pieces of furniture were two small beds and a writing desk. A variety of weapons and ammunition were piled around the beds. The desk had a large map depicting Lemuria was spread across it. Several points along the continent's southern cost were circled, though the largest loop was drawn around a large island. Weighing the map down were several stone trinkets depicting a bird-faced woman or snake. They appeared to be religious artifacts of some sort, but their design did not match those of the ship. There was a tiny, dark stain on one: blood.
-
Below deck, a woman slumped, arms bound, against a wall. She was not bound to the wall in any way, but it was impossible for her to move anyway.
thunk!
An arrow materialized besides one of her angular cheeks, quivering in the wall. Her colorless lips peeled back in a grimace of pain as blood slicked down her jaw. There were dozens of other arrows outlining her body, and just as many trails of blood across skin and clothes, which were unusual compared to her peers huddled near the other wall. Whereas the others wore thin, meager clothes fit for a tropical climate, she was in full, thick camouflage. Her black hair was also rather abnormal, close to the scalp despite her gender.
thunk!
She had feared the worst when one of her captors, a gaunt man with archery equipment and a cruel smile, had pulled her away from the others in the dead of night. He had been focused on her even since she had dislocated the arm of one of the red-shoulders who seemed to be under his command. What she imagined had not come to light, thank God, but she did not know if this was better.
thunk!
She bit back a scream as the head of an arrow passed neatly through her left earlobe. The man chuckled. He appeared to be pleased with himself. She did not know if it was the shot or the pain that tickled him.
"Keep quiet," he taunted her in English, though with what she could only describe her as a thick-tongued Russian accent. "You do not want to wake them, do you?"
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Post by KayKay on Apr 3, 2018 7:52:54 GMT
Hanging onto the window's trim with one hand, the figure reached for its belt and withdrew a small cylindrical can. With the press of a nozzle, a pea-sized clump of clear gel with the consistency of glue was carefully set on the pane of glass. After sealing the can and diving into its pockets again, long fingers pressed a pill-sized piece of metal into the gel.
The distant whale again announced its mournful call on the horizon. This time the sound carried over the crashing of waves on the beach. It seemed closer now.
The figure swiftly picked its way across the side of the hull the way it had came, until it was once again positioned at the gun port leading onto the lower deck. Here the shape stopped, precariously perched against the hull with confidence in its firm grip. It hung there for nearly a minute, silent and still like a stone gargoyle of a darkened fortress.
When the moan of the whale reached its ears, louder than ever, the figure became a flash. It shoved its entire weight into the cannon at the gun port, pushing it further below deck to make enough space to crawl through. Its wheels squeaked and groaned, but the call of the marine beast drowned them out. The figure tumbled into the dark space as quickly and silently as possible, and its eyes searched left and right among the sleeping bulks around her for any sign of men stirring from their slumber.
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Post by Stage on Apr 3, 2018 8:27:41 GMT
There was no movement within the crowded sleeping quarter. It seemed the men had been trained, purposefully or not, to be reliable sleepers. Some had not bothered to remove their armor, many appeared to have fallen asleep the moments they hit their berths, legs dangling and feet still on the ground, and all were unbothered by the various noises of seafaring: the crash of waves, the songs of sea beasts, the creaking of the ship, the shifting of cargo, and, now, the scuttling of the intruder. Most of all, perhaps, they had learned not to be disturbed by-
A scream rang from a neighboring below-deck room, muffled, but hardly silenced, by the wall.
The nocturnal activities of one of their commanders.
-
The paleback clucked his tongue. His pale eyes, the color of broken, powdery robin eggs, were alight with disappointment.
An arrow jutted from the sole of the woman's boot. Her jaw was cemented, sending her teeth through her bottom lip and blood down her chin. Her shocking blue eyes lanced through the man.
"Keep quiet, I told her," the archer said, shaking his head. "But did you listen? No. No, you did not."
A long arm gestured backwards. "Now look. Look what you have done."
Several of the other captives had raised their heads from their desperately needed rest. Many looked upon the woman with sympathetic eyes. Others only looked relieved it was not them.
"So exhausted. But now? Awake. Because of you." The paleback rose one thin finger. "You know. I think you need to be punished. And I think I know how."
He retrieved something from his quiver: an arrow unlike the ones outlining the woman. The edges of its triangular head were highly serrated and it ended in long, spurred barbs.
Twirling the sadistic looking projectile, the fair man swept around. Every pair of raised eyes lowered. "What do you all think? She should be punished, yes? If you disagree, say so."
Silence.
The man chuckled as he turned. "See? They agree. You cannot blame me for what comes next."
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Post by KayKay on Apr 3, 2018 12:52:54 GMT
The second the scream hit its ears, the dark figure tripled its careful pace. Stealth was no longer its priority as it rushed down the lower deck; only by virtue of the figure's light frame and well-practiced strides it succeed in slipping by the sleeping men undetected. It was thankful the varul hadn't yet retreated to the lower deck. Surely, even a varul's senses wouldn't be able to hear the intruder's footfalls from the deck above...
The figure's ears strained for more sounds as it drew closer to the ship's bow. They picked up a voice – a man's voice, with a distinct Lexian accent. His dialogue was difficult to pick up from the other side of the wall, but one word wormed its way into the figure's ear. It was a word it had heard many times before.
Punished.
Long fingers glided towards a holster hidden beneath a well-worn denim jacket. The distant whale's moans seemed to echo the pain in the figure's heart.
–
Nearly seventy meters above the ground rested a second shape, sitting upon a thick, sturdy branch in Lall's canopy. From here she could see the Cinnabar in all its glory and the wider bay beyond. Silver eyes took note of a massive shadow creeping into the bay, hidden beneath the dark sea. She wondered if perhaps the varul onboard the ship was also aware of the incoming leviathan from its vantage point.
The woman reached up with a small hand to adjust her earmuffs over unnaturally silver hair. The other balanced a battery operated loudspeaker tied to the branches. Its drum beat silently and yet deafening, an ultrasonic cacophony well beyond the range of human hearing. She prayed this distraction wouldn't be as destructive as she feared...
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Post by Stage on Apr 3, 2018 21:40:59 GMT
Ears erect, Vigr pulled away from his gargoyle's perch and tromped to the ship's railing. The varul leaned over the black, nighttime sea to admire the even darker shadow of the sea creature. They had seen the beast several times on their journey, but never this close to the ship or shore. The varul wondered why. Did this island offer marine prey as exquisite as its terrestrial game? Most of the Lexians did not like the vast animal, but the varul admired it. He enjoyed how skittish it made the humans, and it reminded him of home, of the farungar, immortal giants said to lurk under the surface of Noraage, or the impossibly huge monsters that lurked in the broiling sea of liquid space, dark matter, that stretched below his flat homeworld.
As the varul observed the enormous shadow, something else caught his attention.
While the intruder had been careful to control the noise they made entering the ship, they had neglected something else just as vital, perhaps even more so. Something that, unlike sound, lingered after their touch.
Their smell.
Catching a fresh, unfamiliar human scent on the briny breeze, Vigr curled his lips in a silent snarl. The one night he becomes distracted, and someone sneaked aboard? This would not stand! He would find them, gut them, and toss them to the beast in the bay before his employers ever knew they were where! Growling something dark, murderous, in his native tongue, voice like the breath of a grizzly bear, the varul trotted towards the stairs, footsteps like war drums on the deck...
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Post by KayKay on Apr 4, 2018 8:30:50 GMT
The footfalls of the varul did not go unnoticed by the stranger below deck, but it paid them no concern. The figure had reached a flight of stairs leading into the cargo hold and withdrew a revolver from beneath its jacket. Before it crept downstairs, the figure flipped the cylinder open with a thumb and checked to ensure it was loaded with normal, lead-tipped ammunition. This ship was too tightly packed to risk over-penetration.
As it descended into the cargo-hold the figure's keen eyes immediately took notice of a pale cloak in the candlelight. It belonged to a man – a paleback, no less – who's back was facing the intruder. His attention was currently occupied by a small woman slumped against the opposite wall, framed by arrows and fresh blood. The paleback's drawn bow pointed a horrific barbed arrow towards the woman. He appeared to be lining up a shot.
With the barrel of its revolver pointed at the back of the Lexian's head, the figure stepped into the candlelight. The intruder was a masked woman. Furious green eyes glared between two bandanas: one brown and masking her lower face, the other orange and wrapped tight around her forehead.
"Drop your weapon." The words were muffled by the woman's mask, but the hiss conveyed its venom well. She paced to the right, ensuring a clear path with which she could intercept the arrow. "Fire that bow and it'll be the last thing you ever do."
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Post by Stage on Apr 4, 2018 20:28:29 GMT
After a long moment, in which he examined the woman's reflection on his arrowhead to ensure she actually had a weapon, the archer lowered his bow. He did not drop the weapon as instructed, but did slowly returned the hideous arrow to its quiver for the intruder to see. The quiver, at his feet rather than on his hip or back, was then pushed away, to the wall.
"Vigr is not getting his pay," the paleback sighed. Unlike his men, he actually rather liked the varul. More accurately, he was intrigued by the species itself. His sister was equally fascinated. She believed a creature with the body of an animal and the intelligence of a man would make for the ultimate hunt. He, on the other hand, had noticed that all varuls, even Vigr's oafish brother, had an air of indifference to them, as if they were unaffected by the cold, by pain, and by all other things that made an impression on humans. He would love to test it, to find where its breaking down was, to see how much blood had to be spilled to make them beg like any man for mercy. Now that Vigr had failed and allowed him, a Pale, a Lexian elite, to be held at gunpoint, perhaps he he would get the chance to.
"And what if you fire the gun?" he asked the woman slowly, turning to face her. His icy eyes were still somewhat amused despite his situation. "How many do you think can sleep through it? If any do, they are woken by others. The varul will hear it if no one else does. He can be very loud. No one will still sleep. They will all pour here. And if they find me dead, they know that someone has to pay. They do not want it to be them, so they will find someone else. Anyone not in our clothes. Pistols will fire, swords will slash, claws will rip, and how many of you is there? One. But the cargo is much more. If you fire the gun, most of them will die."
He grinned boldly at the intruder. "But they do not have to. I am worth more than all of them. So let us bargain. This makes sense, yes?"
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Post by KayKay on Apr 5, 2018 2:56:56 GMT
The woman's eyes narrowed as she circled him. She felt only a cold hatred for the man. His presence here would make this harder than it needed to be. With any luck, Plan B would be here any minute. "You do as I say, you get to live. That's our bargain."
Once she had reached the quiver, she bent down to pluck away the serrated arrow, which she cracked in two beneath her foot. Never allowing her gun or her eyes to stray from the Pale, she took the arrowhead with her free hand and continued to circle him until she was standing between him and the prisoners.
"Strip down," she ordered the Pale as she bent down beside the largest of the prisoners. With her free hand she began to saw at his binds with the arrowhead. "Armor, clothes, cloak, all of it."
There was a guttural rumble in the distance, and the deck rocked beneath their feet as more powerful waves crashed against the hull...
–
The woman in the trees watched the bay in silence. The shape in the water was close now, less than a nine hundred meters away from the ship. It had come to a halt, and the woman saw a massive armored back breach the surface of the water for a moment before dipping below the surface once more. There was a deep, thunderous rumble that washed over the bay, and the ocean above the creature boiled and churned from pulses of infrasound. This created waves that rippled across the bay, splashing against the beach and tilting the ship from side to side.
Her body was tensed, ready to flee the tree and the loudspeaker at a moments notice.
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Post by Stage on Apr 5, 2018 3:41:59 GMT
The Pale began plucking weapons from his hip, beginning with a lovingly polished knife, but paused when the ship began to rock. His confidence faltered for the first time. That was not Croder, was it? He was know to come to this island.
A second rumble echoed throughout the cargo hold. It was not distance however.
It was from the stairwell.
A dark shape with two golden, glowing eyes filled the entrance to the hold. A long arm swung out and seized the intruder by the hand, twisting her revolver towards the ground. A second paw, enormous and tipped by sharp claws, wrapped around her waist and easily hoisted her from the ground. With a snarl, the towering shape whirled around and hurled her back up the stairs. Had her feet not clipped a step and sent her crashing down on her back, she might have made it all the way to the deck.
The varul turned to the paleback, but was cut off by a sharp declaration.
"Half pay. And only because you had good timing."
Teeth gleaming in the dark, the varul threw something hatefully to the ground: the intruder's revolver. He had torn it from her hand when he threw her. He had intended to take the whole hand, but there was still time for such things. The woman was dead already as car as the wolfish humanoid cared. She had hurt his pride and his pay now.
A growl rolling in his deep chest, Vigr stomped after the stranger.
There was a second, less bestial, snarl. The prisoner the intruder had begun freeing, a tall woman with solid yellow eyes and wiry arms that bulged with lean muscle, had snapped what remained of her bindings and now threw herself at the Pale. She moved with a speed that seemed more than human, but it did not help her. The Pale was already moving to greet her with his knife, punching it into her throat and cutting off her war cry, replacing it with a low gurgle. Her hands lifted and wrung his wrist, leaving angry red marks, but he twisted the blade with a dismissive sneer, and she fell away silently.
"No more of that," the paleback stated simply as he wiped the knife clean. He turned to look at the short-haired woman in particular, smiling kindly at her. "Yes?"
Not waiting for an answer, he scooped up his quiver and headed upstairs at a casual pace. He hoped Vigr did not kill the intruder before he had the chance to have his own fun with her.
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Post by KayKay on Apr 5, 2018 6:13:32 GMT
The woman groaned as she climbed to her feet. There was a numb pain where her back had hit the edges of the stairs, but she put it at the back of her mind. How the hell did she let the varul sneak up on her? Her ears were perked now, even as adrenaline rushed through her body. If her stupidity cost any lives...
There was no time to dwell on what-ifs. Her eyes locked onto the varul with fierce defiance as she drew a second revolver from beneath her jacket. These, she knew, carried nanosteel bullets. Her green irises became outlined in a ring of orange, and the heat signatures of crew and prisoners alike decorated her vision. She saw the massive red frame of the varul stalking up the stairs towards her, and her fingers dived into her belt to withdraw a single large cartridge, made for a gun larger than the one she carried in her hand.
Readying her revolver, the woman tossed the cartridge over the head of the approaching varul and followed its path with her barrel. She fired as it neared the ceiling.
The explosion went off six feet behind Vigr's head. The ceiling erupted and tore a hole in the main deck, showering the varul in splinters of wood and ruined nails and sending it crashing forward onto the staircase with enough force to snap the trim. The woman raced down the stairs, stepping behind Vigr's shoulder blades and springing off with all the strength her legs could offer. She slammed into the Pale with her shoulders, sending them both tumbling back down into the cargo hold. Rolling with the fall as she hit the floor, the woman came to a stop at a kneeling position and drew a pocket knife.
Her mind raced. The explosion was sure to wake the whole crew. There was no time to cut the binds on all of them.
Placing the knife back in her pocket, the woman snagged a small can of pepper spray from her belt. As she had with the explosive cartridge, the intruder hurled the can up the stairs and aimed her gun to prepare a shot...
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Post by Stage on Apr 5, 2018 8:14:23 GMT
The intruder pulled the trigger, and a bullet tore through the can just in time for Vigr, pierced and bloodied by wooden shrapnel, to lift his head towards it. The pressurized can burst open and caustic liquid poured over the varul, who began screaming in shrill, animal pain. The can, which had entered a mad spiral due to its contents emptying violently, fell and bounced off the varul's head. It tumbled into the doorway to the sleeping quarter. Similar screams began to echo down the stairwell as the crew, roused by the explosion, leaped from bed and ran straight into a cloud of pepper spray.
The intruder was struck heavily from behind. Agony seeping into the back of her head in the form of a red light, she was sent crashing to the ground, where she found herself face-to-face with with the expressionless eyes of the freed woman.
"Did you think this wise?" the Pale taunted above her.
A blow landed on her side, pushing her into the dead weight of the woman. The blood soaking into her clothes was still sickly hot.
"Did you really think you think you would succeed? Did you think there would be no consequences?"
"D... Did you?" a weak voice asked behind him.
The paleback turned to find himself once again in the sights of the intruder's revolver. It was not the stranger who held it however. It was the short-haired woman.
The archer's lips curled in question, but then his sharp eyes saw her cut binding and the bloodied arrow besides them. They rose and found a cut deeper than any he had left on her cheek, likely too deep to ever heal. His mouth curled into an amused smile. It must have been when Vigr arrived downstairs. She had knocked an arrow loose with her cheek bone, even at the cost of great pain and probable scarring, and hidden it behind her back before he turned to her, then freed herself while he was in the stairwell.
"C- Cut everyone else loose," the dark-haired woman instructed the intruder. Fresh blood leaked from the gouge on her cheek with every word, causing her to wince. The piece remained trained on the Pale with trained discipline however.
"How long will it take though though?" the paleback asked mockingly. "Some advice. Free those you least want to die fist. We will get some. I promise this."
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Post by KayKay on Apr 5, 2018 8:56:27 GMT
The deafening crack of a gunshot rang out across the cargohold, and the Pale felt his right leg give out. He collapsed on his side as the woman, white shirt now stained in blood, rose to her feet. Her eyes were seething with hatred as she looked down on him, but she spared him no words as she pulled a small two-way radio from its protective pouch.
"Vesyka, I need you here now. Someone's de-"
She stopped herself. No. She wouldn't believe it. "Dying."
She ripped the brown bandana from her face, revealing a young woman that looked to be in her mid-twenties. She plucked the knife from the paleback, taking note of the bloodied hole blown through his right kneecap, and passed it to the short-haired woman. "Free them, quickly. Keep an eye on the stairs," she instructed, before crouching down and wrapping the bandana tight around the deep wound in the body's throat in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.
"And I'll promise you this," she finally answered the paleback. She knew the shock from the wound would be starting to wear off. "For every death your men cause, I'll blow another hole in you. Think on that."
The ship lurched violently, and the rumbling of the beast outside began to drown out the screams from the upper deck.
–
The woman in the trees set her own radio down and gave one last glance to the leviathan in the bay. It was moving towards her tree now, each lash of its massive tail sending huge waves crashing down against the ship. She hoped their monstrous distraction would keep the crew occupied.
She seemed to vanish into the shadows of the tree, leaving only the vibrating loudspeaker behind.
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Post by Stage on Apr 5, 2018 9:07:34 GMT
The dark-haired woman nodded after a moment, then began making her way to the other. She sported a notable limp due to her impaled foot, from which she had not extracted the arrow, merely broken its shaft. Its head still shone from her boot.
Despite the excruciating pain radiating from his ruined kneecap, the violent rocking of the ship caused by what he could only assume was Croder or a similar creature, and his captives being freed, the Pale found a way to smirk at the stranger.
"L- Looks like," he said stoppingly, pained gasps cutting him off, "we have the same hobby, yes? P... Pain."
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Post by KayKay on Apr 5, 2018 9:47:46 GMT
"No." The woman stood and pushed him onto his back with her foot, drawing a gasp from the man. A small cylindrical can similar in appearance to her pepper spray was drawn. "I just know my priorities." She ripped the cape from his neck with a forceful tug, and began to spray a tablespoon of the clear gelatin across his back.
"Oh no..." A small voice gasped in the shadows of the cargo hold, and a small woman with silver hair stepped cautiously into the light. It was unclear how she had entered the ship. Wide silver eyes stared at the body on the floor.
"Vesyka, I need you to heal her," the bandana-clad woman instructed.
The silver eyes went wide, and she looked around at the crowd in the hold.
"I know, honey, but there's no time."
Vesyka nodded, and rushed to the side of the woman on the floor. She placed her hands near the neck and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her eyes were wet. "We're too late..."
"Like hell we are!" The woman's brows her furrowed as she stalked to a section of the hull well away from the prisoners and dabbed a two inch line of gel on its surface. A pill-sized detonator was primed and pressed into it. "Vessy, please try."
Vesyka nodded, and closed her eyes again.
–
A great crocodile-like head rose beneath the surface just fifty meters from the Cinnabar. Beady blue eyes stared into the trees, and large nostrils atop a long snout flared as she searched for the scent of her rival. She could hear the call of her enemy in the jungle before her; she had picked up the infrasonic waves far beyond the lagoon, and journeyed many miles to answer her challenger.
This was her island.
The rest of the beast's massive girth rose from the ocean, sending hundreds of gallons of water crashing into the sea and nearly pushing the nearby ship onto the beach. Its anchor held firm against the relentless waves, but as the monster took a heavy step towards the beach, the waves became more fierce. A particularly large wave splashed seawater through the gunports of the hull and drenched the starboard side of the sleeping quarters.
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Post by Stage on Apr 5, 2018 21:49:55 GMT
Salt water gushed into the sleeping quarters, sweeping the few seamen who had not already collapsed, clutching their eyes in agony, off their feet. Several were pushed out onto the stairs, where they laid limp atop the whimpering Vigr.
As the seawater retreated however, it took with it some of the noxious substance with it, leaving eyes still stinging, burning, but no longer alight with pure, white hot pain, so, slowly, the armored mariners began to pick themselves up.
Worse yet, the huge, damp form of Vigr began to shiver. It appeared at first to be due to pain, his sharper senses especially affected, and perhaps pain was a part of it, but the low growl that vibrated from the varul was only angry...
-
The Pale had no more retorts as he was abused by the intruder. He only laid there, face to the floor and silent. The pain had taken either his will to speak or his consciousness.
The yellow-eyed woman gasped suddenly, voice thick with blood and spittle. Amber eyes filling with anger, her hands shot towards Vesyka's thin neck, but another freed captive, likely a relative considering the resemblance, stopped her.
"¡Cúlmasa!" she shouted, thrusting her smaller, fair hands into the murderous grip of the revived woman. "Cúlmasa. Allu ta astú uyodundi."
This seemed to calm the injured woman. Grip fading from homicidal to merely tight, she closed her eyes and focusing on carrying on from strained breath to the next.
"H- Here," came a small voice from the bandana-wearing woman's side. The dark-haired woman was offering to return her pocket-knife.
Behind her, the captives- or rather, the former captives- stood and shook off their severed bindings. Better illuminated by the candlelight, it could be seen there was a divide between them. They all had locked hair that was at least shoulder-length, but half of them were like the two women near Vesyka: tall and light-skinned, with solid-colored eyes and dark hair. The other half were stouter and tanned, their eyes metallic and their hair dull. One of the latter, an old man, approached them with trembling hands.
"Thank you," he rasped, grasping the arms of both the bandana-wearing woman and the dark-haired woman. "Thank you both."
-
As the reptilian giant crashed ashore, punching craters into the beach with its enormity, far below it, unknown or unconsidered, a single, small shape weaved between its massive feet: the female paleback.
The earlier explosion had ruined her hunt, frightening away an impressive boar, so she had begun making her way back, more irritated than concerned, but now she rushed, seeing the threat firsthand...
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Post by KayKay on Apr 9, 2018 10:50:29 GMT
The woman offered the old man a nod, but her gaze had traveled to the stairs above. Although she was counting on the terataur to divert the attention of the crew, she doubted the varul would be so easily occupied. She raised the radio to her mouth again.
"Mole, we need a lift. We don't have much time."
Her eyes fell on Vesyka and the woman below her, and a small wave of relief washed over her. Vesyka's eyes were still closed – she hadn't moved even when the woman had reached for her. A silver glow seemed to shine from under her palms and ebb into the woman's body, and the deep gash on her neck appeared to be sealing itself.
Raising her arms, the woman began to usher the prisoners away from the section of the hull that she had placed the gelatin, glancing nervously back up the stairs. Her eyes locked on the old man.
"We'll need to swim a short distance," she explained, pulling a pen-shaped instrument from her pocket and pulling off the lid. She placed her thumb on top of a crimson button. "Tell them to stay close together. Anyone that's too weak to swim should have priority."
–
Forepaws tipped with enormous hooked claws sent sand scattering as the beast crouched onto all fours. A low rumble washed over Lall as it closely investigated one of the trees. Its nostrils flared wildly, and gusts of hot air crashed into the canopy, sending leaves and branches scattering to the wind. Of particular interest was a small, black box, from which the beast's keen ears could hear the challenge emitting. Another gust of air, and the box fell from its perch. Beady blue eyes followed its enemy's decent until it hit the jungle floor far below. Its ultrasonic hum went silent.
Then a new sound caught its attention. It came from the ship drifting off the beach. Two small explosions rocked the vessel, one pushing a small hole into the lower deck at sea level,the other shattering the windows of the captian's quarters. Its curiosity piqued by this new development, the beast swung its massive frame to investigate further.
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