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Safer Waters - Escort

South of Nilanza three shav pirate "kings" roam the waters in sufficient numbers that it is only the most foolish, or desperate, of merchant ships that risk the waters. This situation suited Argento, who profited from shipping tolls from merchants forced to hug close to Nilanza, but Malespero has better uses for the islands, and ocean, the shavs call home.

In this episode Malespero needs to escort a VIP through dangerous seas. Mercenaries and friends of Malespero are both welcome to assist.

Risk 3 Escort/combat scene open to anyone on good terms with Malespero.


June 21, 2021, 6 p.m.

Hosted By


GM'd By



Orland Raimon Shyanne Zakhar Marzio


Gilden Malespero


Outside Arx - Lyceum near Nilanza - Small Islands off the East Coast of the Lyceum

Largesse Level


Comments and Log

Somewhat to the south of Nilanza (Malespero's island) there is a chain of islands that they have begun calling the Anvil islands. This chain of islands has been a no-go zone for merchant shipping for generations but Malespero has finally turned its eye towards removing the threat. There are three factions in the area; The Galeheart who use green sails marked with a hand as their identifier, the Bloodoar who use red sails marked with crossed oars, and the Blacksail who use plain black sails. At this point any one of those factions could be the allies of choice and it has been politely asked that the mercenaries do what they can to avoid forcing Malespero's hand in this conflict.

At this point you are onboard a longship called the Mothwing where you are tasked to act as marines. The ship is military in nature and she does have her own crew as well. The Captain is a rather jaunty type who prefers to refer to himself as a corsair rather than a military man.

Todays mission is to take the woman Magra Blacksail, whom Zakhar and Raimon will remember as the prisoner they rescued last week, home to the Blacksail's city located on the Anvil. She lost an eye and an ear in that misadventure and is making absolutely no efforts to hide the injuries from the rest of you. She almost seems proud.

The Mothwing has just moved into the area where vessels from any of the factions might come into view at any point and the tension level notches up in the crew around you.

It has been a while since Marzio has been in the city of Arx. In contrast, it took him almost no time at all to catch wind that Malespero, another Lycene House, could use help with some sort of escort mission outside of the city. Naturally Marzio had volunteered, and so he finds himself near the prow of the ship, crouched down comfortably in his armor with his spear in hand. His eyes are peeled, searching to and fro for any sign of danger from their enemies. He can feel the tension entering into the crew around him, and it creates a sort of wild energy in the Mazetti lord.

Zakhar has taken to sitting at the bow of the longship, a small steel pot holds a couple of pieces of dung and a very small fire is burning within the pot, where a specific and well recognized frying pan sits atop of the pot. A some slabs of meat are currently frying up in the pan. The old man looks over to Magra, pointing at the meal cooking, "Ye've got the moss padded into yer socket, yeah? All good to be proud of it, but ye don't wanna lose yer head due to rot of the eye. Come have some food and tell me about the rest of Blacksail."

Raimon keeps watch to the aft of the ship, nearby the helmsman, as most evidently the prow of the vessel is well - stocked with lookouts. That being the case, it probably pays to have eyes on all quarters, as missions have gone awry for lesser reasons than that. Which isn't the goal today. Rai is mostly silent, except for the occasional brief interchange with the helmsman about what that person reads of the currents and winds. Raimon is patient and observant, as best he can manage of both of those virtues. He looks inboard for a few seconds from time to time, to relieve the mental fatigue of constantly scanning the horizon for . . . . well, for whomever is out there.

Raimon checks perception at easy. Raimon is successful.

Zakhar checks perception and sailing at easy. Zakhar is successful.

Marzio checks perception at easy. Marzio is successful.

Magra gives Zakhar a fierce grin "We've had good healers." as she goes over towards Zakhar. "Let me feed the Captain first. Then we'll trade tales. You can tell me how that happened." She points at Zakhar's black eye "And I'll tell you all about my brothers birthday bash."

She is moving towards the Captain with whatever food Zakhar chose to give her when Zakhar, Raimon and Marzio spot a longship approaching fast from the west. At about the same time that you can identify this vessel as belonging to the Galeheart faction another two sails appear on the horizon behind it. It doesn't take long at all to go from the idyllic peace of the open ocean during a lycene summer to tensely watching three longships approaching fast. Whilst the front ship can be made out as Galeheart you can't quite make out what the ships following are. Not yet.

"Ship coming from the west!" Marzio calls out to the crew as he turns his eyes in that direction. Rising to his feet, he places the butt of his spear down upon the planks and leans comfortably, watching the approach.

A smirk is shared with Magra, "Aye, feed the Captin. Then we can talk bout silly fights." Zakhar turns to look out to the horizon as Marzio calls out the ship and shrugs, muttering, "...bleeding typical just when a good fry-up is ready someone's got to pop up and make me miss the meal while its still warm..." He then looks over to Marzio with a nod, "Care for some food before they get here? It's going get cold otherwise." The grease in the pan is given a good stir with a spoon then he settles in upon the hull at the bow, waiting for whatever might be coming towards them upon those three ships.

Raimon looks to the West, seeing three ships. "Aye, and so it begins." Raimon says quietly as he nods to himself. "Three sails West!" Raimon shouts, pointing. "General direction of faraway Caith. One is -Greensail-, others -might- be Blood-Oar, based upon the heading. . . not yet clear!" Raimon readies a defensive boarding pike. Since that's what he's got. Which, as luck would have it, is pretty much the optimal tool to prevent being boarded. Someone back in history was smart! Raimon confers with the helmsman and captain, getting their input on just how to approach the encounter. Raimon gauges that there's yet time. Not forever. But not 'zero' either!

Raimon wields boarding pike.

Marzio wields Stride's End, an alaricite spear.

At about the same time that you identify the incoming ship as a Galehart vessel the green sailed ship changes her course just enough to ensure she passes the Moonwing by. The moment the Captain confirms it isn't some cunning trap to disguise a boarding attempt he barks orders and the archers on board start shifting their focus back onto the oncoming threat. The two incoming ships can now be identified as Bloodoar and Magra has begun, very loudly, to demand that the Galeheart ship be taken. Noisy Chaos.

But the situation on the water is pretty clear. The Galeheart ship is using the Moonwing as cover in this chase and the Bloodoar vessels are looking pretty hostile. Nobody has started shooting yet but someone on a Bloodoar ship bellows "Give up the Galeheart!"

Looking to Zakhar, Marzio offers a nod of his head and then reaches out to take whatever food might be available and pop it into his mouth. He stands easily on his feet as the ship rises and falls with the motion of the ocean, the tip of his alaricite spear gleaming in the sunlight. Looking aside toward the ship captain, Marzio calls out, "Any reason this is our fight? That we can't just keep on sailing and let them continue their chase?"

A grin flashes across the old man's face as he shouts back to the Bloodoar ship, "What will you pay us?!" Then turns to Magra, "Oh Shuddup! Will ya?" Marzio is given a shrug, "Doesn't hurt to ask?"

Raimon shouts out confirmation of his earlier 'educated guess,' which had been based entirely on the overall strategic scenario and what he knew of the geography. Now that he has visual confirmation the the pursuers are Blood-Oar, he announces: "Confirmed! Aye! Pursuers are Blood Oar --- by direct visual." And then, as more time passes, and the scenario unfolds, it becomes more and more clear what their choices are. Raimon holds off for as long as possible, making no commitment to either. Raimon explains softly to those in our boat: "There's no reason to rush our choice --- although we -should- make one --- the more these ships close range, the better the tactical odds for our marine - laden Mothwing! If the Blood-Oars reach a position athwart or alongsides, well . . . so much the better . . . " Raimon reasons. Raimon grins at Zakhar's request for a bribe. That's just perfect, really.

Normally in a situation like this it would be the Captain that makes the final decision but just as the crisis point is reached Magra stops yelling and grabs for the wheel instead. The Captain reacts, obviously, but she's a big and strong woman and the resulting wrestling match pulls the pair of them away from the wheel. More importantly it puts the Captain out of commission at the worst possible moment. A decision needs to be made before the Bloodoars reach attacking distance and you are the only ones who seem to be in a position to make it. What do you do?

"I saw we sail on and complete our mission... this little scuffle isn't our problem," Marzio says, his eyes shifting about to take in the three ships. "The only other alternative that catches my fancy is if we could fake like we're leaving, then circle back around to capture those two Bloodoar ships while they're busy trying to board the other..."

Zakhar watches the ships, turning to Magra and watches her try to take the helm. Pinching at his the bridge of his nose he charges across the deck to throw his whole body into the woman while yelling at her, "We don't fight with the captin!"

Raimon nods to Marzio: "Very well. Let's let that play out, then decide if we hop int. Meanwhile, let's get our -own- ship back in the hands of our own captain, . . . " Raimon advances on the tussling due. (( @check Leadership + Command ? )) "Stop fighting. Now." Words first. If those don't work, well, that's what the haft ends of pikes are for (( the non-pointy side ))

Zakhar checks strength and brawl at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Whilst you discuss what to do about the situation the two bloodoar vessels shift into weapons range. The ranged members of all three crews start pointing lethal objects at each other and the Bloodoar who yelled before moves towards the side (covered by a shield bearer) "We have you outnumbered. Surrender the Galeheart or suffer the bloodkeel"

Meanwhile on the Mothwing Zakhar barrels into the melee and whilst he doesn't manage to stop Magra from fighting he does manage to give the Captain enough time to escape. The Captain stumbles into Raimon.

Marzio checks command and sailing at normal. Marzio fails.

Marzio watches all of this unfold, his eyes shifting from the Bloodoar ships to their own, and then to the vessel that has been using them as a shield. Looking back to the wheel, the Mazetti lord points forward and calls out, "Sail us away from this. Get us out of the middle of these two ships!"

Zakhar keeps his eyes on Magra, while yelling back at the Bloodoar, "How about some breakfast instead?! Got some very nice fried pork!" A smirk rises over a curled lip under his beard as he then speaks quieter to Magra, "What's yer game?"

Zakhar checks strength and brawl at easy. Zakhar is successful.

Raimon check-slips the contact with the stumbling seafarer and thence afterward holds the Mothwing's Captain upright. And on-board. Pretty much the only way this could get any more chaotic is if the captain fell overboard. "Assessment. Quickly!" Raimon urges, looking into the Captain's eyes while listening to what that man is thinking . . .

Raimon checks command and empathy at normal. Raimon marginally fails.

Zakhar takes Braided rope with satin flags from Sling Satchel with bleached thumb bones.

Magra's immediate response to Zakhar's attempts to calm her down with those quiet words is to attempt to throw a punch at him. "Get out my way!" Luckily for Zakhar's already swollen eye her fist fails to connect. After a few more moments of struggling Zakhar somehow has her arm behind her, held by the elbow, and Magra is effectively restrained. "Let me go!"

When Marzio calls an actual order the crew scramble to obey. The Mothwing suddenly lurches forward as the sail shifts into the wind.

"Good Call" laughs the Bloodoar speaker.

"We'll pay!" calls someone from the Galeheart vessel.

"Get that crazy woman tied up!" Calls the Captain of the Mothwing before lurching for his wheel and taking the ship back under his control. He looks at Zakhar first (he did afterall suggest they might be bought) but then grins and calls back towards the Galeheart "How much?"

Zakhar reaches into the satchel that hangs from under his vest and pulls out a long coiled braided rope and proceeds to add a knot binding Magra's hands and feet behind her. He's hog tied her and then tied the end off to banister of the hull. Stepping back a bit, he asks again, barking at her as if she's one of his blades. "What's yer game Magra! Why do you want that ship?!" While he's waiting for an answer from her, Zakhar yells back at the Bloodoar. "Drop your arms and I'll serve ya some of this fine fried pork!" He then nods to one of the archers to get the frying pan with the lovely hot grease ready...

Raimon lets this chaos play itself out. His contribution will be to screen the Captain, making it as hard as possible for any of the Blood Oar archers to draw a bead on the man. Guy's had a rough day so far. No sense letting him get shot in the spleen and make it even worse.

Watching as the crew stalls once more at the call of money, Marzio snorts and shakes his head. He moves over toward the mast, likely to attempt and put something that can serve as a shield between himself and the Bloodoar archers, least he catch an arrow.

The Bloodoars seem more bemused than motivated by the offer of fried pork whilst the Mothwing is sailing away. Magra glares at Zakhar with absolute wrath. "Any opportunity to take out a Galeheart. Any."

The Galeheart Captain calls back after he's asked how much. "A weeks supplies! And what-" but is prevented from saying more by the Mothwing Captains cheerful retort of "Not Enough. Give me more sail boys." The crew comply and the Mothwing picks up some more speed. The Captain waits for the Bloodoars to start going after the Galeheart and then winks to Marzio. "Fake and circle back you said?" He grins to the three of you. "What do you say? Shall we be clever or safe?"

Marzio eyes the Captain from his position near the mast and then looks back toward where the Bloodoars have resumed their chase. "Yes, fake and circle back. Maybe we can complete our mission and capture a ship or three in the process?"

Zakhar nods in agreement with Marzio, "Round it, we'll catch a ship." then turning back to Magra taking a crouch in front of her, he pulls out an old rag. "Now. I can gag you. Or you can explain further. What did the Galehearts do you that a Bloodoar didn't?"

Raimon fires Marzio a bit of an intense - looking grin. Raimon to Marzio: "Yae, let's be about it." To the Captain, just loud enough for that man to hear: "Aye, circle!" (( Not so loud that it carries o'er the waters. ))

The Captain starts whistling a tune broken only by an occasional order to tighten this rope, loosen that sail, turn that free.. and whilst the Bloodoars descend on the Galeheart you sail away from the conflict. One Bloodoar ship moves to board whilst the other hangs back to cover the pair with ranged fire. "Oh well thats a pity" the Captain says when he sees it. He's not really talking to anyone in particular when he says that. His next words however are meant for everyone "Grab hold of something. We'll be turning hard and there wont be no coming back if you end up in the drink!"

Magra spitefully tells Zakhar "I hate them both."

Marzio checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Marzio is successful.

Raimon checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Raimon is successful.

Zakhar checks luck and athletics at easy. Zakhar is successful.

Marzio offers a nod to the Captain, seeming to understand that this right might get a little bumpy. Reaching out, he takes hold of one of the ropes that hangs down from the mast, squeezing it tightly as he watches the ship begin to turn.

Zakhar braces against the hull and ducks down as the ship whips into the sharp turn. Watching Magra, "Great! You get to kill some Bloodoars then! But no killing the Galehearts, eh?" As the turn pushes him further into his braced position, he yells over to the archers, "Put the grease in the pot and get ready to toss that pot at the Bloodoars!" Turning back to Magra, Zakhar runs a finger over the scar in the middle of his face while he grins. "Ever wonder where the name the Bloody Iron Chef was born from?"

Raimon braces against the gunwale for the turn, leaning the correct way and by just about the proper amount. And then it's off to the races, with an interesting mess at the finish line lying await ahead of their course . . .

The Mothwing turns hard enough that one of her rails touches the water (surely an illusion). A number of supplies, including the pork and Zakhar's fire, go sprawling across the deck, and just when it seems the frying pan might go for a swim the ship levels out again. The crew seemed hardly to notice and the moment you come out of the turn oars go out with a crack of wood against water and the Mothwing starts to be pulled faster and faster towards the ship-battle ahead of you.

She's moving pretty quickly when the Bloodoars spot you coming but sadly not fast enough to avoid a volley of fire from the target vessel. The Mothwing keeps going through it although one or two of the sailors and marines make startled sounds of pain as something sharp makes contact with their bodies. The second volley comes just before you reach boarding distance and this one seems all the worse for the boarders being clustered at the rails in preparation. Some of the sailors scream as ranged weapons from both sides hit their marks but any sound of pain is quickly drowned out by the roars of fighting men ready for battle.

Through all of this Magra is grimly silent as a nearby sailor holds a shield up over her position.

Raimon checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Raimon marginally fails.

Zakhar checks luck and dodge at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Marzio checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Marzio is successful.

Zakhar pulls out a spoon, tucking it into his hand then slips the braided handle between the knots that restrain Magra. "Yer coming with me. We'll go have a lovely chat with the Bloodoars, possibly some breakfast, swap stories about skirmishes." He awaits an answer before releasing her from her bonds.

Raimon is one of those hit with an incoming missile. Stands to reason, as he'd been spending his time and energy screening the Captain from incoming fire. Raimon winces, grunts, and his eyes blink shut. But when they reopen there is . . . well, nothing of that. It's almost as if an impassive mask of sheer willpower and uttermost determination has been crafted and set down upon Raimon's face. The intensity of his gaze is direct, nigh to palpable. There's now an arrow lodged in his trapezius muscle on his left side, above the collarbone. But the Captain is safe. And the enemy is closing.

Marzio can feel the adrenaline beginning to flow as the ship turns on a dime and points them back toward the danger and thrill of a fight. He holds the rope tightly in one hand and his spear in the other, watching as the ships come closer. He braces himself once more in case they should collide, but largely he keeps an eye out for arrows.

"You're not taking her over there." The Captain demands of Zakhar. "Worry about untying her later and go get me some Bloodoar ears." He's probably not serious about the ears. Magra just glares at you both equally. She has no weapon anyway

The arrow rain keeps falling into the rear ranks as both sides continue to try and pick each others boarding parties off with arrows but that barely matters now. Hooks are thrown and the ships come together with a grinding groan of strained timbers. Both sides roar and the fight to make it across the gap is on! The odds seem about equal right now.

Marzio checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Marzio marginally fails.

Raimon checks dexterity and huge wpn at normal. Raimon is successful.

Zakhar checks strength and small wpn at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Raimon checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Raimon is successful.

Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Marzio checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Marzio fails.

The initial attack goes well and the Mothwings combatants, lead by the Zakhar and Raimon, manage to push the fight onto the Bloodoar ship in a few places. The Bloodoars, led by a champion, managed to fight their way onto your ship and that champion is now pressing Marzio hard. Unfortunately, in that crush of bodies, its hard to see the deck nevermind what is going on at the fight level.

Raimon's boarding pike is swung into a ready position. A Langepointe Guard position, centerline, from a 60-40 stance with his right foot well forward. Feet spaced well apart for balance. Even still, Rai's face a mask of intensity, concentration, and oddly - enough, a derelict calm. Offense wins games. But this is not a game. Defense is the hallmark of champions. That's the pikeman's creed, anyway. Raimon occupies the initial round of this engagement defensively: by preventing a blood-oar from occupying his ship. Pointedly, with the pointy end of a pike. The Blood-Oar is bloodied. Raimon presses his advantage thereafter, his eyes completely and utterly calm. Breathing is regular. Exertion is maximal.

As the ships come together, Marzio moves forward with the rest of the crew to attempt and press the attack on the Bloodoars. Wearing full plate naturally slows him down, and perhaps it might become clear that the Lycene lord is not the most accustomed to battle upon the open seas. As the champion comes his way, Marzio's charge is halted in a flurry of attacks from the man. A sword rings in again and again, scoring several minor hits upon him as he struggles to parry with his much bigger weapon.

Zakhar grunts to the Captain and shrugs to Magra. Then he's up and over the side of the ships as they collide. The spoon is still in his hand, catching the bloodoars off guard as they start laughing when he swings and stabs with it. Its not until blood is flying, and he's grinning hold an ear from a screaming crewman. Waggling the bit of flesh, he tucks it into a pouch upon his belt. "Not my usual fare, though the Captin asked! Who's fucking next?"

Zakhar checks strength and small wpn at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Zakhar checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Raimon checks dexterity and huge wpn at normal. Raimon is successful.

Raimon checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Raimon is successful.

Marzio checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Marzio is successful.

Marzio checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Critical Success! Marzio is spectacularly successful.

The push, stab and press of the fight continues with a definite push towards the Bloodoar vessels deck. Amongst the chaos a few bloodoar sailors slip in and attempt to cut the mooring lines that are holding the vessels together, starting with their own. If this continues they are likely to force you to decide between staying here and fighting to the last or retreating back towards the Mothwing. Zakhar and Raimon are both steadily superior in their own private melees. Blood flowing from their opponents in several spaces (including the ear). Marzio manages to get his large weapon into a position where it can do some real damage and presses the champion he was fighting back enough that his efforts to avoid retaliation are almost trivial. Whilst everything is going as it is for him he can choose to disengage should he wish it.

Raimon checks dexterity and huge wpn at normal. Raimon is successful.

Marzio growls at the pain of those strikes making it through the plates of his armor, and that seems to press the Mazetti lord on into more vicious tactics. His spear is made of alaricite, afterall, and so the sharp tip clearly hurts like a bitch as he begins to lash out again and again at the Bloodoar champion, pressing him back and hoping to angle him toward the edge of the ship.

Raimon keeps on pressing his advantage, using a bit of deft footwork and a feint high while sidestepping an incoming attack to set up a low strike to his foe's achilles tendon with the back of the hook of the boarding pike. Ouch. This one being almost out of commission, Raimon tries to position himself to take on the Blood Oars cutting at the ropes next.

A scream here, a fork flies through the air there, Zakhar keeps pulling out improvised weapons and with deadly accuracy and a hint of a malice grin the old man is proving to be more nimble and deadly than any of the Bloodoars probably expected from him. Let's face it, he was offering fried pork just a minute ago! Why is he grinning? And is that Sven's ear that he's whispering to as he stabs that guy that we can never remember their name, oh, he's dead, doesn't matter... Zakhar looks up from his latest donor of an ear, blood streaks through his hair to that there are only wisps of snow-white, with a matted burgundy slicked back over his head. He stomps his foot forward to those still trying to protect their ship, and lives. "Seriously!? It was a good fried pork too! Now its GOING TO BE COLD!"

Marzio checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Marzio marginally fails.

Zakhar checks strength and small wpn at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Raimon checks dexterity and huge wpn at normal. Raimon is successful.

Marzio checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Marzio marginally fails.

A gap opens up between the two vessels as the Bloodoar longship starts to peel away from the Mothwing. You can hear the change in the fight around you as the Bloodoars focus their entire might on trying to push you back onto your ship and give up on attacking. It swings the fight somewhat in their favor, this focus on the defense, as these sailors and marines are as fresh and experienced as the Mothwings. Off to the side the other vessels continue their own version of this ship to ship brawl.

Even before Zakhar and Raimon struck down their foes the fight had already turned towards retreat on the Bloodoars part and this latest change in the line only causes the shift to get more extreme. You feel as if you could sweep the decks clean of Bloodoars given just a little more time but when the Bloodoar captain calls to disengage so does the Captain of the Mothwing. "Disengage!" echoes through the ranks as the sailors and marines attempt to get back to the Mothwing before the vessels can fully seperate.

Whilst the Bloodoar side of the fight goes fairly well the situation on the Mothwing with that Champion isn't going so well. They once again start pressing Marzio hard and only pause when they hear the call to disengage. For a moment the champions head tilts that way and then they look to Marzio. "Next time?"

Marzio growls as the ships call their retreat, his eyes quickly taking in the positions of their men as the enemies begin their retreat. "Fall back!" Marzio calls out, his voice carrying over the din. "Don't get caught on the enemy ships when they pull away!" he yells.

As Raimon's foe has been significantly hobbled from his previous efforts, it's but short work to finish him with a whirl-feint into a deceptive stop-thrust, at surprisingly short range, considering the movement started from a Vom - Tag guard position. Having already lined up his next move last round, Raimon is already headed toward the rail and the ropes, even before this foe hits the deck. His impassive mask of concentration still very much in place, Raimon's moves are fluid, efficient, and minimal. As is his decision making. Instead of engaging the rope - cutters so close at hand, Raimon simply re-boards the Mothwing.

Zakhar smirks at the soldiers of the Bloodoars as the orders to disengage ring through the air, he gives a final slice to whomever is next to him then as he takes the steps and leap to get back upon the Moth calls out. "Breakfast another time then?" For good measure he flips two fingers into the air to the Bloodoars as they pull away.

When Marzio calls fall back the bloodoar champion loosely salutes him with their paired longknives before leaping back onto the Bloodoar vessel. They flip a rude finger back towards Zakhar and then vanish into the hive of sailors on board. Immediately after you disengage the Mothwing turns towards the fighting Galeheart and Bloodoar vessel, swinging up nearby and lobbing a few javelins to get their attention. Soon after that that Bloodoar vessel also disengages and starts to retreat. So does the Galeheart..

Marzio growls as he watches the ships disengage and begin to retreat. The Mazetti takes stock of the crew of the ship and growls out a frustrated, "Well... that was a waste of time and blood." Looking toward their charge then, Marzio says, "Let's get on with it then and get this job finished."

Zakhar slides down the side of the longship to sit upon the deck, pulling out a leaf and begins to roll up a smoke as he looks around upon the deck of the Mothwing a little survey of the damage and who might still be ready for whatever may come next. With the smoke rolled and tucked into his lip he lights it with a small tinder box. A deep puff, held, then released in a low sigh. He waves to Marzio, "Not a waste!" Then holding up the pouch of bleeding ears, "The Captain requested ears, I got him his ears!" After another puff he takes to his knees then stands up. Heading back to the helm and Magra, the pouch of ears is tossed to the Captain as the smoke is blown at Magra. "Care to talk now?" He grins at her, his face, hair, armor covered in the Bloodoars blood.

Raimon snaps out of his combat trance and spends a few moments 'just breathing'. Heavily. After recovering, he walks to Marzio, clasps the man reassuringly on the shoulder, and offers: "It was a good plan -- a decent gamble. You can play the odds well, and still not have it pan out in the end. We'll get them. Next time!" Raimon grins. It's at this point he realizes he has an arrow sticking out of his trapezius muscle on his left shoulder. Oh. Hm. Raimon considers this.

"Not really." The Captain of the Mothwing says to Marzio. "Killing them would've sent a bad message and." he grins a lopsided grin and lifts his voice to one of his men. "Kel. Remind em about our deal?" Kel's reminder apparantly goes in the form of a javelin tossed right into the other vessels hull and miraculously seems to actually work as the Galeheart oars come out and the vessel starts to come alongside. "We still have our princess to take home." Magra glares some more. The Captain speaks up again, calling over to the other vessel. "Let us board and collect our dues aye?"

Zakhar is overheard praising Pasquale.

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