Open [The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

The Demesne has a new arrival, and it is one that was not anticipated.

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Dessarian on November 25th, 2019, 3:18 pm

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They all saw the mooring lines trailing in the water like long snakes. Dess thought to jump in and retrieve them, but his ability to swim was limited to basically survival treading of water and a slow paddle. He would never catch the lines. And unless the Isurian was a skilled swimmer, it was likely Crylon would sink like a rock under his dense mass. Then Kelski stooped to touch the water. He remembered the day they unloaded the horses. the low ripple of the water's surface smoothed as it solidified under the sway of her magic. She leaped onto it, and Dess followed at a full stride. He kept pace with the Kelvic, not wanting to outstrip her and topple off the leading edge of the expanding path of hardened seawater.

His mind raced through the situation, weighing the incredibly limited options. He sensed Kelski doing the same. Crylon had the root of an idea, somehow getting a rope between them and the ship. The Isurian with his density and strength might be able to act as an anchor to keep the vessel from slipping away. Dess could help. But they had to get the rope, and that still didn't get them on board. Kelski was focusing on keeping solid footing under them and trying to communicate with the seagoing architectrix, he realized when she actually spoke out to it.

Then the tide continued to turn against them. A crewman peered over the taffrail of the Dark of Night, a crossbow in his hands. Dess saw the bolt head aimed at Kelski. He held the cry that came to his lips tight, but swerved towards the Kelvic, even as the quarrel thudded into her shoulder, piercing her armor. She screamed out, dropping.

He sensed the searing pain in his bondmate, as well as the determined concentration on the res that sustained reimanced water. If they were going to get her brother, they couldn't give up. Kelski wasn't. One of her brisk zephyrs carried a cloud of sand across the deck of the ship. The crossbowman lifted his arm to shield his eyes, as did the man arming the ballistic. It would give Kelski time to get up against the ship, out of the line of fire.

Dess was still trying to determine how to board the ship. He had no way of speaking with the vessel, and wondered if it remembered him. Kelski was wounded and trying to keep a platform beneath them. If they got a rope, he could climb up, but would be virtually defenseless as he made it to the deck, unless the defenders could be debilitated.

"Can you keep the sand up?" He yelled at his bondmate, pained to see the thick shaft jutting from her shoulder, her face even more pale than usual. "Crylon, the rope!" He then yelled to the smith pointing to a line further aft. If the Isurian could reach one, maybe he could slow or stop the ship's drift. Dess eyed a forward line trailing in the water and slid along the edge of the water platform up against the hull of the ship, helping Kelski get to safety. He couldn't reach the dangling line from Kelski's solid creation, and wouldn't distract her from all else to request a stretch in the direction needed. Instead, Dess gathered again his djed into his upper back, forcing it into his shoulders and his grip. Then he leaped for the rope.

His boot slipped on the water lapping over the edge of the hardened sea and his reach fell inches short as he plunged into the water. But a hand shot out to catch the thick rope. The second grasped it as well and his Flux-inbued muscles easily pulled him from the water as he began to climb the rope, trying to keep from swaying out too far where he could bee seen by the men aboard.
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[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Crylon Stonecraft on November 26th, 2019, 2:05 am


Occasionally, Crylon found, he had a good idea. More commonly though, or so he was starting to think, others did not understand his ideas or seemed to just ignore them.

With his somewhat basic grasp of common, he supposed lack of proper communication could in and of itself be the problem.

He could see Kelski weighing her options. Deciding on a course of action. And then, rather than anything involving the rope or such a mundane solution, began using magic. It was clear from his own use of the magic she was using Reimancy, but when she did use it the magic was used in a manner he was not familiar with.

But then he knew so little of magic in general, let alone Reimancy, so finding her doing something new to him was not so surprising.

She was... Hardening the water? Making ice? He could not quite tell, was not quite sure what she was actually doing.

Once it was hard enough, Kelski was off, running atop the water. This seemed to be working well... Until someone appeared on the deck of the ship, and firing at the much closer target that was Kelski... Struck her.

Perhaps, Crylon reasoned, if not so distracted she would have noticed the threat in time. Regardless of the why though, she was hit, which meant her plan of whatever manner had failed. Still though, for now her magic seemed to hold.

It was as she started doing something else that Crylon noticed a second threat. Another man on board, this one not using a small handheld weapon but one larger weapon mounted on the deck. Similar to the crossbow, but bigger. Much bigger. Big enough to skewer Kelski with one bolt.

The human had been traveling right behind her on her solid water bridge, but Crylon. Crylon was still on the docks. Had not moved from the spot. The thought... The thought of going onto the water with nothing but a bit of magically solidified water below him... Made his stomach drop into his feet.

Though, he reasoned, not that him doing so would have even been a good idea. With his weight he would all too likely fall through and sink to the depth of the water.

When the human yelled for him to grab the rope, so far from the dock, Crylon simply shook his head. The water... He could not... No. So deep. Down. Suffocating.

Kelski was wounded, trying to fight to keep their solid water bridge solid. The human was trying to climb the ship, hanging from a rope over its edge. Fighting off the fear, the panic, Crylon shook his head, focusing his mind. One step at a time. A plan. A plan, yes, that would do. He did not need to go out into the water, he simply needed to form a plan of action. One step at a time, do them, and he would reach his goal.

Quickly Crylon assessed his resources, what he had to use. His club, no not long enough. He did not have any projection weapons for ranged fighting. Some random things. His muffin tin... Suddenly an idea bloomed into his head. A weird idea. A decidedly unusual and Un-Isur idea. But also something no one would think to defend against, certainly not those serious men on the boat with their serious weapons threatening serious death on his compatriots.

Taking off his pack Crylon dipped a hand in, and focused on pulling out a small metal tin. A small brass tin that looked somewhat weathered, but worked simply enough even if in an odd manner.

For it held the ultimate weapon, when put in the right hands. An endless supply of muffins! And who expected to have a foe fight fire, with frosting? Panic with pastries? Smiling to himself as he hooked his pack back on his back, and opened the tin before him. Murder with muffins.

Grabbing out a muffin with his left Isurian arm, Crylon sighted on his foes on the deck. And with a heft of his strong arm, threw it right at one. It fell short.

At no loss, Crylon quickly closed and reopened the tin, grabbing out another muffin. Aimed, threw. This one landed on the deck of the ship, far from either men. No matter, it took but a few moments to retrieve and toss a muffin, another was quickly behind.

Close the lid, reopen, pull out the muffin, aim, throw, close, repeat. The next one hit the side of the ship, then another smashed into the front of one of the men. Finally, contact!

He would not stop till stopped, throwing muffin after muffin.

A smile cross his lips as another landed on the deck, and he heard the sound of a bird from not too far off.

For while appraising his resources, Crylon had not only counted his possessions but also his position.

They were on a beach. And birds, like gulls, were common on the beach. And birds liked food. It did not even matter if he hit the men, or if they stopped, though he was hoping confusion would if nothing else give them pause as to what was happening and to what the Isur was doing.

It was not long before the starting signs of his plan were in motion. A single gull dived at the deck, aiming for a chunk of muffin.

He kept throwing. Open the lid. Take the muffin. Aim. Throw. Close the lid. Open the lid, repeat.

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[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Kelski on November 26th, 2019, 5:30 am

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Some battles were worth it. Some where not. This struggle was worth any cost because Dess had recognized The Dark of Night and the ship had said his mage was on board. Kelski knew somewhere in that ship, her older brother was a prisoner. And that made it all worthwhile. Most of the crew was dead. That meant they had two more opponents to fight. And Kelski knew as soon as the ship agreed to let her on board that they would have its help as well.

Kelski wasn’t doing so well, truth be told. Blood was running down her shoulder and all her concentration was on holding the footing solid and the wind sweeping across the vulnerable men on the deck. When Dess asked if she could keep the sand up, Kelski didn’t reply only gave him a curt strained nod. She was by that time flush up against the ship, sheltered by the roundness of its hull, watching the vulnerability of her bondmate as he got a hold of the rope and started climbing. She was glad, so glad, he wasn’t standing on the solid water anymore, because she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up. Her Res was divided between the sand-laden wind and the hardness of the water, and as fast as her blood was spilling out, something had to give.

Thankfully she was huddled against an Arch ship and just like that a door appeared in the side of the hull above the waterline. Kelski raised an eyebrow and reached out for the handle. She turned the handle, pulled the door open and stepped into the ship. Leaning out, she saw Crylon hadn’t followed her out onto the solid water… no one was using it. And with a relief, she let that magic go. Leaning in the newly formed door frame, Kelski panted, trying to catch her breath. One hand hovered over the crossbow bolt that stuck out from her shoulder as if she wanted to put pressure on the wound but dared not touch it.

Her eyes fell on Dess, climbing upwards. She wished him safe, though she could do nothing now to hold the magic. The water was once more fluid and the sand whipping through the air driven by air reimancy

It was then something round and compact started flying through the air that had a delicious smell. Kelski wouldn’t have understood what she was seeing if she didn’t have extremely good vision. Narrowing her sight down, she focused on the flying objects like she would focus on a mouse in the grass with her floating on a thermal high aloft. Muffins?

Crylon was throwing what appeared to be an unlimited supply of… muffins? They flew in a giant arch, one at a time, out onto the deck of the ship. A gull spotted one, cried out and dove for it. As more muffins appeared, more gulls appeared, swarming the topside. The air was filled with the cry of seagulls and the beating of wings. They effectively distracted the shooter and his deck mate, giving Dessarian time to climb unencumbered by flying crossbow bolts. Kelski inhaled deeply, released the breath she was holding, and turned knowing she couldn’t just stand here and rest. She let go of the remains of the blown sand and of the hardened water, knowing the gulls would have an easier time mobbing the deck without her zephyrs roaming around blinding the men.

As soon as she was out of the doorway, the door vanished. Kelski wondered how old The Dark Of The Night was that he could make doors at will. She was inside a cargo hold, one that was virtually empty of cargo. No wonder the ship was riding so high in the water. She set off, knowing she had to move before she was weakened too greatly, and knew she wouldn’t encounter anyone unless the two men on deck abandoned their posts and retreated within.?

“Where is he? Your mage?” She asked the ship, glancing around, but not seeing anything. “Is he in a cabin above?” She asked, expecting that would be where another man would be held… especially an important prisoner.

No. He is here. In this hold. Go deeper, towards the bow. You will see him.

The Dark of The Night had a resonant voice. Kelski clung to it, almost drawing strength from it, as she staggered forward and then grew more confident as the ship rocked violently. She suspected the ship was rolling and listing, helping the invader and gulls now that they had declared who they were to him. Kelski moved deeper, as the Arch Ship suggested, and found herself in a wide empty interior. She assumed on normal trips cargo would be loaded here… crates, barrels, even livestock into the far wall which appeared to have small stalls built into the round hull.

Kelski kept searching, her eyes scanning, until she halted dead in her tracks. A chain had been threaded through a huge iron ring affixed to one of the support beams. It trailed downwards, twin coldly braided ribbons of iron, and affixed to the wrists of a man who was collapsed at the base of the support beam. His face was unrecognizable. He’d been beaten severely and there were old trails of blood out of his nostrils and ears. His lips were so swollen that she couldn’t actually see where his lipline was. Just a quick assessment showed that one of his arms was broken and she doubted he could stand at all. He was not conscious.

The Sea Eagle knelt in front of him, afraid to touch the broken man. She blinked djed into her gaze, surprised to find her well wasn’t even remotely empty after all the magic, and pooled power into her eyes. With the burning pain in her shoulder and the blood loss, it took concentration, but she was practiced enough she did it. She looked with her magesight and found more wrong. His ribs were pulsing with an angry red color, and it looked like at least one of his knees was dislocated.

“Can you hear me?” She whispered, edging closer to him still kneeling. Her eyes scanned the chains once more. There was plenty of slack, but the manacles were locked tight and needed a key.

She glanced around angry, suddenly, angry at the ship. “Why is he still chained to you? You could control this.” She hissed, looking pissed off. Kelski was trying hard to understand something that had no place. Sunberth had violence like this. But here? On the sea? It still existed?

The metal ring embedded in the support beam of the ship suddenly popped free like someone extracting a blackhead. It clanged down with a thump, its length of chain clattering to the wooden floor. Kelski jumped back startled.

He is never a prisoner within me. But he is bound by iron I cannot control. He will not wake. I cannot touch his mind. I do not know what they have done to him. And you are wounded too. I feel your blood spilling on me. K’etir blood. You look like your family.

The ships voice bolstered her somehow. It gave her strength. She gathered up all the chain – which was heavy – and draped it over her good shoulder. Then, even though the man was broken and wounded, she would not leave him. She leaned down, strong, and put him over her shoulder as well. It was a dead man’s carry, and even though all the weight was on her good shoulder, it pulled at the bolt in the opposite one.

Kelski began to walk, slowly, painfully, hoping that by the time she found her way to the surface – via a stairway or some sort of means to carry Kalistan upwards – that Dess would have taken care of the two men on deck. She was counting on him and Crylon. She had to trust that by the time she got up, the way would be clear.

The Dark Of Night directed her. Its voice a gentle urge in her mind. She didn’t get lost. She didn’t waste time staggering around. Instead, she found the way up with alacrity and burst out of the hold hatch with Kalistan on her good shoulder. The mage hadn’t woken, hadn’t stirred, and rode her form in a dead-man’s carry like he himself were truly just a corpse.

The deck was in chaos. Gulls were everywhere. The deck was littered with muffins. Kelski gently set the mage down, letting his chains fall with a harsh obnoxious noise barely heard over the cries of the gulls. Kelski looked around for Dessarian and the enemies, knowing she’d probably need to fight again.

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[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Dessarian on December 4th, 2019, 1:29 pm

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Muscles imbued by Flux-driven djed carried Dess up the thick mooring rope swiftly. It was a risky move, if the defenders leaned over far enough, they could still fire at him. A glance to the dock revealed that Crylon had not followed the bonded pair out onto the water. He realized it was not fair to expect the Isurian to attempt to retrieve the ropes, not when even he couldn't swim out to get them.

But the Isurian wasn't idle. He dug through his pack and began to fling items at the ship. They weren't rocks or some other dangerous missile, they were light, like bread. Dess climbed, puzzled and frustrated. He couldn't see Kelski anymore, and prayed she was alright. At first, he only made a cursory note of the gulls gathering over the ship, until the air was filled with their cries as they mobbed the deck. Did Crylon plan that? A distraction of such clever design? Dess had to cough a laugh as he reached the rail of the deck, hearing the two men aboard cursing at the chaotic flock.

A hand gripped the edge as Dess gathered his strength once more and vaulted onto the deck. What met his eyes were the men trying to train their weapons on the only target they had, the muffin-launching Isurian. The crossbowmen realized they were not alone and turned to aim his weapon at the intruder. Dess ducked and rolled forward, Evantia already revealing the danger before the crossbow turned to face him. Coming up from his crouch, the Damazar slammed his fist into the man's abdomen while his other arm wrapped around those of the man, fouling the crossbow. It fired, the bolt sinking harmlessly into the wooden deck.

Dess' foot lifted enough to strike the side of his foe's knee with a stabbing kick, breaking the joint and dropping the man to his knees. Then the whisper of Evantia came again to his consciousness as a flinch of movement caught the corner of his vision. Thrust, low, short. Dess twisted as the blade of the short sword grazed his ribs, catching and tearing his shirt, the tip leaving a thin, shallow laceration that quickly beaded up with blood. The man had abandoned the light ballista and drew his weapon to attack. With the momentum of his turn, Dess powered a punch which caught the unsuspecting man in the jaw, rocking him with the Flux-powered strike.

The gulls continued to flutter about, causing the combatants to flinch and duck as they fought. A sharp pain struck Dess's back and a force shoved him forward. Unable to reload the crossbow, the man with the broken knee had managed to sit up and hit Dess in the back with the weapon. With a groan and gritted teeth, Dess turned angrily back, a side kick landing his boot to the man's head. The neck snapped back and the enemy collapsed to the deck.

Pommel strike, head, left side.
the slightest flinch of the second man betrayed his intent to the gnosis power. Dess seized the wrist of the attacker's sword arm and closed in, hindering the use of the weapon. It was then, over the man's shoulder, that Dess saw Kelski struggle to the deck from the hold, the bolt still jutting from her shoulder, draped in chains, with a man over her shoulder. It was Kal.

Rage renewed, Dess twisted the wrist in his hand, the grip firm. A foot behind his foes and an arm wrapped around the waist forced the swordsman to slam onto the deck. Dess dropped, his knee falling on the man's throat, the hard bone crushing the cartilage. The sound of choking and gurgling could not be heard over the din of the gulls. The sword fell from its owner's grip to clatter onto the wood.

Only then, as the djed drained from his upper body and arms, did the pain take over. Muscles overtaxed with the use of Flux, his back bruised from the blow of the crossbow, it took a long moment for Dess to stand to his feet and look to ensure the two men were incapacitated. He was sure the one beneath him would be dead in a few last straining breaths. Then his sky blue eyes lifted to Kelski and he hurried to her side.

Dess marveled that the Kelvic was still standing, let alone carrying a man. She was pale from loss of blood, her silvered eyes pained. He moved to take the man from over her shoulder, barely recognizing the beaten man cradled him in his arms. "Kal." He murmured, looking up to Kelski. "It's your brother." Not sure she was aware of the mage's identity. Had Kalistan not been so badly beaten, there would have been a resemblance between the two siblings.

Crylon's voice sounded from the dock, and Dess looked over the rail. "Yes, get help, get Ebon!" He yelled back. They had to get the ship back to the dock. He laid his friend on the deck. The K'etir mage was alive but deeply unconscious. Dess then moved again to Kelski, helping her to sit or lie down if she wasn't already. "I can try to get a rope to Crylon. but are you able to speak with the ship? What can I do to help her get to the dock." His hand pressed against the puncture in her armor where bolt would still bled. He felt her pain, and she would feel the worry he tried to stifle.
Last edited by Dessarian on December 5th, 2019, 1:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Crylon Stonecraft on December 5th, 2019, 12:48 am


While Crylon had hoped his relatively simple yet inventive tactic would work, the subterfuge had been far more effective than he had expected. He had thought a few birds might come looking for food, or a few of the muffins might hit the men on the deck and cause them to pause in their attack on the others of their group.

It had been that, or go in the water, and that was something... Something just thinking of doing brought chills to Crylon's spine.

He did not notice where Kelski went, seeming to vanish into the ship when he was focused on his muffin tossing, but when he did notice her loss of appearance he knew he did not dare stop to locate her if his tactic was to succeed. He was not sure if her water bridge had vanished before her, or if she had vanished and then the water bridge had vanished once she was gone, but he did notice that it seemed to have gone along with the Kelvic.

He knew she had been hit by the crossbow, but since she was gone now and he had other things to do while the men threatened on the boat he could not dwell on that. He needed to help in other ways.

It was not long before a swarm of gulls descended on the boat. Some of the gulls smashed into the men on the deck while others simply dived and swarmed the muffins on the deck, both serving to obscure the men's view of the others of the Demesne. That had been his main goal, to keep their focus away from the others so that they could get away or do whatever they needed to do. In truth Crylon felt he understood little of what was going on, who was where or doing what, but he knew the men on the deck where the enemy and they needed their attention pulled.

Anything that served that purpose was a good thing.

He noticed as the man who had fought alongside Kelski pulled himself up a rope and over the side of the boat. As this occurred Crylon picked up his pace, tossing muffins even harder to make sure he was not seen. He did not know his name, or if he did the name escaped him then, but he knew he was on their side which was enough to know of the man.

And then the man was over the side, and fighting the two men on the deck. From the distance he was from the boat the particulars were more difficult to make out, the entire combat seemed to take but a few moments and consist of a few blurs of motion and sweeping attacks.

Crossbow, missed, man attacking dodged, attacked in kind, one man down, another attack from the other man, one down. Two down. Both down.

As the man finished the two combatants on the deck, incapacitating them by means most violent, Kelski appeared back on the deck. And she was not alone, carrying a man with her.

Kelski was wounded, and if she was carrying a man he was likely hurt as well. And the man who fought for the Demesne on the deck of the ship was likely injured as well from all of the combat.

But they could not get off, with the boat far from the dock, and Crylon could not give aid.

Standing and waving his arms, Crylon pointed at the ropes.

“Ropes! Is ropes! Throw, and will pull boat in!”

While he waited for the ropes to be thrown Crylon turned away from the water and to the land and the buildings of the Demesne there. Waiving to get attention Crylon yelled again, trying to draw someones attention.

“Healer! Is need healer! Fighting is done, need healer! People is hurt!”

Unable to do anything else from the docks, Crylon took turns trying to get the attention of someone on the boat, or someone from the household.

If someone from land approached he would do his best to explain in his rough common what had happened and who was hurt. If the rope was tossed and he was able to reach it, he would do his best to drag the boat in, wrapping it around his Isurian arm and hauling with all of his enhanced might.

His muffin tin sat open, a single muffin left sitting forgotten inside. It was covered with many small red vegetables which seemed to almost glisten in the sun from some fire held within.
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[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Kelski on Yesterday, 10:53 pm

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Once Kelski had gently laid the mage on the deck and let the chain fall, she was immediately hit with the exhaustion and pain she felt. Blood leaked down her shoulder, soaking her clothing beneath the armor and weakening her. She hated the feeling, reaching up to grab at the bolt protruding from her shoulder and crying out as she did so. Kelski was on one knee, ducked low over the mage as she scanned the deck and tried not to cry out again. Her hair had come out of its ponytail and was twisting across her back, the pale ends stained with blood. She blinked, felt tears, and realized she was crying. A free hand reached up and wiped bloody tears from her eyes. Crying blood?

Overgiving.

Kelski recognized the signs immediately. She’d always been careful with magic. She’d always been a good student and had obeyed Gilthas’ wisdom down to the letter… but in this, she’d not stopped nor hesitated. It was the reason her head pounded. She was fairly sure her shoulder was broken too, or at least it felt that way.

Dess had fought a beautiful battle. He was a thing to be respected when he fought hand to hand, something Kelski realized one wouldn’t necessarily pick up on with his quiet stoic way just face to face. But to see him fight was something else. She was just in time to see him break a man’s neck with a side kick. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it was a cleaner death than the man deserved.

“Keep… Keep one a… alive!” She tried to croak, but it was virtually too late and her voice was virtually soundless. She could see the man under Dess’ attention was already dying. And for the life of her, she couldn’t remember if any of the men on the dock had been left in any kind of condition to talk. The Kelvic went down on her other knee finally, as Dess approached, a pop in her ears causing her to shake her head and send a bit of blood flying.

Dess knew the man, conforming what Dark had said about the man. She nodded once, sharply, reaching out to touch a bit of the man’s dark long hair. It was not unlike her own, nor was his warped facial features, swollen and bruised. Had he been able to open either eye, she would have seen an icy stare very similar to her own. The K’etir were distinctive, every one of them.

“His name is Dark. He is deeply affected by …. his mage being like this. I don’t know if he can help…. he has no means to use his sails. They… they’ve done things to cripple his abilities without their permissions.” Kelski said, glancing up at the sails and noting how bound they were. Each word was weakening her. She didn’t want Dess to see and was glad he took over Kal, for there was no way she could manage him any longer. Her vision was already darkening around the edges and now slim trails of blood were leaking from her ears. Her head hurt. Every word hurt to speak. And when Dess reached out to press his hand against the puncture I her armor where the bolt was, she tried to scream…. only a hoarse animalistic sound came out. She snapped at his hand with her mouth, like it was a beak rather than a human face and went down, crumpling hard, the pain in his link from her suddenly going dark. She breathed. She bled. She just wasn’t enjoying consciousness any longer.

Suddenly, there was a huge lurch to the ship. It hit the dock hard and ropes were caught up. There was no need to throw them to Crylon because up at the tower, the people gathered there had heard the commotion. Gilthas, visiting from down the beach – secretly indulging in Keesha’s breakfast since his own cooking was so poor – had heard the fight and had come running along with Ebon, Toni, Zeke, Jackson and Briggs. They were a small army unto themselves. And Toni, a sea krait Iyvess, had dived in and retrieved the ropes immediately, his swimming strong and agile. He’d retrieved them to the dock and the rest of the group still on Reach began to heave, pulling the ship back into place even for all its size.

Saegus, Dunstin, and the rest of the women had stayed behind securing the tower and putting on hot water and getting bandages prepped in case the battle went their way. Once Reach had Dark secured and the lines were made fast, all the Meraki boarded the ship immediately. Ebon was at Dess’ side immediately, his mark from Rak’keli screaming at him for action. He took one look at Kalistan and swore under his breath, knowing he was looking at a man that should have been dead. He turned away though, kneeling by Kelski first, and noted the bolt in her shoulder. He frowned, braced his foot on her arm, and yanked the thing out immediately, casting it aside. He began stripping her torso armor off, casting the black night armor aside, until he ripped off the shirt she wore under it to bare her shoulder. Then he laid his hand on her wound, light glowing from his palm, as he sterilized the wound and began closing up what he could of it. It would need stitching, but it would not get infected while he was on watch.

“Dess… she’s messed up… but its not from a bolt. What did she do?” He said, pulling an eyelid open, peering at her silver orbs that were completely vacant of animaltion, and then checking the blood from the corner of her eyes and ears.

“I haven’t been around mages enough, but this looks like overgiving… I can’t help this.” He said softly, brushing the hair out of her forehead and shaking his head. He turned, called Gilthas’ name, and then pivoted to begin working on Kalistan.

He had plenty of medicine and a gnosis mark to help the mage, but all he could really do was clean and sterilize his wounds, set his broken bones, close up the scratches and settle the bruises. The rest had to fall under his ability as a doctor and would take time.

Gilthas, meanwhile, appeared and kneeled at Kelski’s side. He studied Kalistan a moment and shook his head, figuring the mage for dead, before he looked at his djed daughter thoroughly. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” He said suddenly, wiping at her ears and eyes. “Did she have a seizure or stop breathing? If she’s just bleeding, then she pushed herself too hard or did too much at once but not in a stupid way.” She looked to Dess and then Ebon to see if any of them saw any sign of seizing. He pried Kelski’s mouth open, saw that her tongue wasn’t bitten, and rolled her partially over, reaching down to feel her armor about her crotch. “She didn’t bite her tongue or piss herself. I think she’s going to be fine.” He said, then laid his hands on her chest and began feeding djed into the prone mage. He did so for five full chimes as he mused.

“It can be shocking the first time a mage rapidly dumps their well. She’s got a powerful one… its deep, strong, and if she uses it sparingly it will last a long time in battle. But Kelski isn’t one to have patience. And I don’t think she’s ever dumped it this hard this fast, which takes a toll. She’s wounded to boot. This the only wound?” He asked, pulling out a vial from his belt pouch and uncorking it. He dumped the contents into the wound at Kelski’s shoulder and it started to close. “I only have a few of them, but they are for deep cuts and breaks, Ebon. Use them sparingly.” He said, reaching into his bag and pulling out several more and handing them over to Ebon. They are old, but true power from healers never seems to do anything but get stronger over time. Use it on the man if hes someone that needs fixing.” He said, not sure the healing potions would keep the man from death, for he looked teetering on the edge already.

Then he rose, and started directing some of the others to gather the bodies. One man, it turned out, was still alive and moaning on the dock. Gilthas was going to see to him then let Dess and the others question him at will.

Kelski, for her part, woke slowly, half sitting up on the deck not sure where she was or who she was with. She blinked rapidly, then felt both Reach and Dark in her mind, questioning, one concerned, one beyond panic for his mage’s life. It was to that Architectrix Kelski reached for, trying to sooth him. “My brother.. how is he?” She asked, knowing Dark needed to hear for himself… and hoping for all the world they told the truth. The Arch ship had been lied to many many times and he was not doing so well mentally with all the foreign people and his mage down.

When Gilthas got back to the dock where Crylon had stood and helpfully passed information, he glanced down at the open muffin tin in his hand. "You gonna throw that one to or can I eat it? I'm famished suddenly." He said, gesturing at the odd muffin on display inside the tin.
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[The Empyreal Demesne] Black Sails

Postby Dessarian on Today, 1:43 pm

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His adrenaline was coursing through his body, the Flux still hot in his muscles, the Evantia still searching, seeking threats. They muted the baser clues sent through the cord of the Kelvic bond, that Kelski was suffering, that her body had been stretched to its limits. He heard her guttural answer regarding the ship and its inability to control itself. Only when he turned from Kalistan to try to staunch the flow of blood from Kelski's wound did her condition fully strike him.

She bled from...everywhere. It was more than the bolt taxing her body. He was not a mage, but he lived among them all his life. While the overuse of his magic, the Flux, bore the consequence of strained muscle and broken bones, Dess knew the overgiving of a mage like Kelski was a more encompassing danger. He tried to rest her head as she felt her go quiet through the bond. The silence of her pain reassured him, after Dess quickly checked her vitals to ensure she was alive. Gods, she looked bad. Blood and gore did not faze Dessarian, he was a warrior, but seeing his bondmate's body so bloody and expended left him deeply uneasy. His gaze swept the surroundings again. Kalistan still lie as still as a dead man. The two men lying on the deck assured Dess they were not a threat. He didn't know if he had killed them or not.

Dess' muscles ached. His djed released to diffuse through his tissue, the gnosis perception faded, and when the ship jarred in its gentle collision with the dock, Dess' sharp attentiveness returned. There were voices and the rattle of a gang plank laid against the ship. He remained crouched between the body of his best friend and his bondmate, a hand on each as if still guarding them, though he knew those that boarded were friends. Profound relief gripped him when Ebon reached the deck. "I'm fine." He quickly waved the Kelvic off to look to the prostrate K'etir. The lion only frowned with little hope at Kalistan before he immediately began tending to Kelski, and Dess watched as Ebon yanked out the bolt and stripped her down to the wound.

Dess shook his head at Ebon's questions. "She gave everything she had..." He breathed. It was the image of who Kelski was, a generous soul who literally gave until it hurt, or nearly killed her. Any further words from Dess were cut off as the Kelvic called for Gilthas. Gilthas was there. There was no man Dess respected more than the Lethafal. He stepped back as Ebon and Gilthas tended to the fallen. The Damazar recalled the last several chimes to answer Gils questions. "I didn't see her seize, she was in pain, she even spoke, then she lost consciousness. I didn't feel anything like a seizure." Dess knew Gilthas would understand he meant through the bonding. "The bolt was the only wound I saw." He added.

The Lethafal confirmed Ebon and Dess' suspicion, gross overgiving. Gilthas seemed to have something to help, easing Dessarian's graver concerns. Dess shared a glance with Gilthas, the Lethafal's gaze showed promise for Kelski, with less assurance when the mage looked again down to Kalistan. When Kelski stirred, Dess crouched at her side, supporting her good shoulder. She asked after Kalistan. Few words had passed between any of them regarding the K'etir man's condition, but both Ebon and even Gilthas had expressed little hope in their expressions. "He is in danger of death. Kel." Dess explained, speaking the words regarding his best friend with a sadness Kelski had not seen in her bondmate, even at the rumor of his family's death. Dessarian's answer was blunt, but he had vowed to always speak the truth with Kelski.

"The other's will bring Kal." He assured Kelski. Zeke and Jackson stood by waiting for Ebon to administer the Lethafal's potion. Toni and Briggs stood over the wounded hijacker from the ship. "Secure him some place safe." He recalled Kelski's words and the wisdom of questioning the survivor. Once Kelski and Kalistan were settled, Dess would see to that man in a manner the others should not witness. The dead one would be dragged off deck once the living were safe, so the Dark didn't have to tolerate his attackers any longer. Once the state of the other attackers was known, Dess would give instructions on how to deal with them.

Dessarian would help Kelski off of the ship, carrying her if she allowed it. He had many questions that needed answered. Kalistan would not be able to give them, not yet. He hoped to extract some information from the wounded man, but many questions only Dess' best friend would be able to answer, if he lived. And the Meraki...well, Dess...was reminded that danger could, and would, find them. He would have to bolster defenses and better prepare their people or another threat.

But in that moment, Dess only wished to get Kelski and Kalistan safely to the tower. He nodded to Crylon, his eyes conveying gratitude for the Isurian's valiant and creative effort to help stave off the attack. The others were bearing Kalistan behind them. "He is as hard headed and tough as you Kels. I think he is too damn stubborn to die until he has a chance to harrass his little sister." Dess' humor was often misplaced, but well intended.
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