Viseryn chuckled and, without deigning to give an explanation, waved his hand for them to continue. He took another sip of the expensive bloodwine, which he noted none of his retainers had yet touched, and stroked the head of his slave, who both trembled at his touch and pushed eagerly into it.
Action: The Hakseer (NSFW)
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The Khainite watched Rythia as she spoke, once she had finished Arkeith nodded slightly.
"Norsca first." he agreed softly, reaffirming his earlier point.
"Norsca first." he agreed softly, reaffirming his earlier point.
"A Champion of the gods?" Rythia's lips parted again but this time it was to laugh. "If we meet such a thing then I am sure he will be surrounded by an army and even if not I doubt the Corsairs will allow it on board. Would not want to spoil the rest of the year by attracting the attention of Chaos."
The nobles gaze shifted from her Lord and instead fell on the slave that was near him.
"Ah why did I not think of tha-..." She stopped herself mid sentence, there was no need to complain after all. Still the female Druchii could not help but curse inside of her mind that she did not take along her more favored slave.
The nobles gaze shifted from her Lord and instead fell on the slave that was near him.
"Ah why did I not think of tha-..." She stopped herself mid sentence, there was no need to complain after all. Still the female Druchii could not help but curse inside of her mind that she did not take along her more favored slave.
Karochi noticed the bloodwine on the table. He poured some into a cup and drank it. After tasting it, he set it down. "Ah, Lord Viseryn. That bloodwine is excellent. It is the best drink I have experienced since boarding this fine vessel. Thank you for supplying it." He encouraged the others to try it, and continued drinking.
"Well, I did say, "if Khaine truly favours us', and I was not saying it would be easy, and we do not have to capture one. Regular Norsii are good enough fighters for the pits."
"Well, I did say, "if Khaine truly favours us', and I was not saying it would be easy, and we do not have to capture one. Regular Norsii are good enough fighters for the pits."
Tenril had stood back, smiling as the others had brought up their thoughts on what to plunder.
He shook his head and grinned. "If I may my Lord? Whilst it is true that Bretonnia has many unguarded coastal villages it is those villages that are absolutely worthless.
The human population is inbred and weak and make for poor slaves. You want Bretonnia; go for a big port. Risky considering their navy but something I have pulled off more than once. But...like you said it is done to death and the ripe pickings grow less ripe every season. They need time to recover."
Tenril walked up to the map and put his finger down on Norsca.
"Norsca is interesting but very dangerous. Go there for strong slaves, just remind yourself that they'd rather die in battle than be taken and their wealth...well, they are savage beasts. They do their own fair share of plundering." Tenril chuckled.
"They are marauders and, dare I make a bold suggestion, will fight if paid well. If we need to add more strength we might get them on our side promising wealth or glory in battle. I say let them do the dying for us. When all is over it is a simple matter of getting rid of an already tired, maybe even wounded, enemy."
Tenril lifted a glass of bloodwine with his other hand and took a few sips, enjoying the rich taste.
"We could even raid Marienburg with them on our side and need I remind our effete kin have an embassy there? Think of it...Asur captives. Your name, my Lord, will be become legendary."
Tenril's finger slid over to Albion. "Savage island, very little known about it but if it is beasts you want it is worth the visit."
He shook his head and grinned. "If I may my Lord? Whilst it is true that Bretonnia has many unguarded coastal villages it is those villages that are absolutely worthless.
The human population is inbred and weak and make for poor slaves. You want Bretonnia; go for a big port. Risky considering their navy but something I have pulled off more than once. But...like you said it is done to death and the ripe pickings grow less ripe every season. They need time to recover."
Tenril walked up to the map and put his finger down on Norsca.
"Norsca is interesting but very dangerous. Go there for strong slaves, just remind yourself that they'd rather die in battle than be taken and their wealth...well, they are savage beasts. They do their own fair share of plundering." Tenril chuckled.
"They are marauders and, dare I make a bold suggestion, will fight if paid well. If we need to add more strength we might get them on our side promising wealth or glory in battle. I say let them do the dying for us. When all is over it is a simple matter of getting rid of an already tired, maybe even wounded, enemy."
Tenril lifted a glass of bloodwine with his other hand and took a few sips, enjoying the rich taste.
"We could even raid Marienburg with them on our side and need I remind our effete kin have an embassy there? Think of it...Asur captives. Your name, my Lord, will be become legendary."
Tenril's finger slid over to Albion. "Savage island, very little known about it but if it is beasts you want it is worth the visit."
Sar'geth interjected, "Albion is quite unchartered in modern maps, however that would make your journey all the more glorious, Lord Viseryn. You would be known as the first druchii to map it, the first forerunner for Malekith to plumb its mysteries. Many would hail you for that alone, and due to the fact that no humanoid population is truly dominant there, besides - debatably - the bog dwellers, though they would be interesting specimens for your fighting and breeding pits themselves, my lord - a multitude of species live on that island."
He looked around, hoping against hope that the raiding ship would go to that land. "If you are looking for challenging targets, Lord Targarys, you might like to know that there is reportedly an island off the coast of Albion, shrouded in a thick fog, and dangerous to approach. On it is a city made entirely of obsidian; it is the capital city of the cyclopean fimir, and witihin are a massive horde of that ancient race's many great artefacts and tools. It is rumoured that one of the "gods" they worship, Balor, dwells there. From the few studies about him in the druchii libraries that I have read, he is a daemon prince, but will no doubt be a powerful being - all the better for a test of your skill, lord beastmaster."
Sar'geth picked up a glass of bloodwine, and sipped at it. The surface of the crimson liquid within the goblet wavered slightly, as if shaken by the impact of a powerful stride. As the drink swirled fluidly, the vauvalka caught a glimpse of the past within it...
A druchii wizard sat by his desk studying secretly and frustratedly, a sputtering candle on his right and a tattered book in front of him. A useless set of glass-like spheres sat discarded to the left of the mage, and complicated runes, scrawled on a pile of tablets, imposed themselves on the blandness of the room that seemed to give nothing away as to its purpose. Reading the ancient tome, the nervous magician's eyes widened in surprise as he glanced at a specific passage, and a small gasp escaped his lips. "The great eye of Balor, the god of the fimir, burns all it touches. The eye sees in a different way to the optical tools of others, and is a powerful magical item. Even if the demon Balor himself is banished, the eye will remain, persisting in its potency and danger." Sar'geth read the passage once more. His hands were shaking with shock. This was the final piece of evidence he needed, the key piece in the puzzle he'd put together, the centre of the web of knowledgethe wizard had been crawling into.
Here, at last, was Sar'geth's answer to Malekith's demand.
He looked around, hoping against hope that the raiding ship would go to that land. "If you are looking for challenging targets, Lord Targarys, you might like to know that there is reportedly an island off the coast of Albion, shrouded in a thick fog, and dangerous to approach. On it is a city made entirely of obsidian; it is the capital city of the cyclopean fimir, and witihin are a massive horde of that ancient race's many great artefacts and tools. It is rumoured that one of the "gods" they worship, Balor, dwells there. From the few studies about him in the druchii libraries that I have read, he is a daemon prince, but will no doubt be a powerful being - all the better for a test of your skill, lord beastmaster."
Sar'geth picked up a glass of bloodwine, and sipped at it. The surface of the crimson liquid within the goblet wavered slightly, as if shaken by the impact of a powerful stride. As the drink swirled fluidly, the vauvalka caught a glimpse of the past within it...
A druchii wizard sat by his desk studying secretly and frustratedly, a sputtering candle on his right and a tattered book in front of him. A useless set of glass-like spheres sat discarded to the left of the mage, and complicated runes, scrawled on a pile of tablets, imposed themselves on the blandness of the room that seemed to give nothing away as to its purpose. Reading the ancient tome, the nervous magician's eyes widened in surprise as he glanced at a specific passage, and a small gasp escaped his lips. "The great eye of Balor, the god of the fimir, burns all it touches. The eye sees in a different way to the optical tools of others, and is a powerful magical item. Even if the demon Balor himself is banished, the eye will remain, persisting in its potency and danger." Sar'geth read the passage once more. His hands were shaking with shock. This was the final piece of evidence he needed, the key piece in the puzzle he'd put together, the centre of the web of knowledgethe wizard had been crawling into.
Here, at last, was Sar'geth's answer to Malekith's demand.
"Imbeciles! Raid a large port..? Raid a grand location with one ship and a some hired mercenary's? Marienburg?! We would need to spend any and all coin we make during this trip just to be able to get enough warriors for such a feat! They might be savages but they will not join their blades with ours on promises alone! Try to still remember our limits as while I deserve our Lords success I rather not toss our lives away so foolishly." Rythia's voice was raised quite a bit and it did lack it's usually honey. It was also the first time she had lost her patience in front of others.
After a few moments the noble finally picked up a glass filled with the expensive wine. She did not savor the taste but instead emptied it in a single go.
"I think a few of you want to get us killed or are very much overestimating our current strength."
After a few moments the noble finally picked up a glass filled with the expensive wine. She did not savor the taste but instead emptied it in a single go.
"I think a few of you want to get us killed or are very much overestimating our current strength."
Viseryn scowled at Sar'geth. "Do you think me stupid, cur? Nagronath and Neuland are both established colonies from both our own people and the bastard Imperials! We'd never survive longer than an expedition from either. And to suggest we go against a daemon prince on my Hakseer cruise ... Are you trying to get me killed? We'll visit Albion, but Arkeith is correct. I shouldn't push the crew to their limit so soon; Albion shall be a later target."
Sinthair moved subtly, into a position from where he could attack should his lord demand it, but Viseryn gave another look of disgust to the vauvalka before turning to Tenril. "We are not here to engage in, or ignite, large-scale conflicts; that would be my last resort. My main interest is in raiding and reaving."
Sinthair moved subtly, into a position from where he could attack should his lord demand it, but Viseryn gave another look of disgust to the vauvalka before turning to Tenril. "We are not here to engage in, or ignite, large-scale conflicts; that would be my last resort. My main interest is in raiding and reaving."
Sar'geth quickly replied, "But my lord! I wasn't suggesting we encountered a daemon prince in straight on combat! I was suggesting something...more subtle could be tried." The corners of Sar'geth's mouth crept into a malicious grin, and he spoke once more: "You are a beastmaster, from what I've heard, Lord Viseryn. You know of traps, lethal and debilitating, and there are a few methods I have made plans for over the centuries." Sar'geth's sadistic smirk grew wider.
"Whilst we and the Imperials may have established colonies on Albion, nobody has yet traversed many of its secret places, so it - is - still largely a mystery to the druchii authorities. You could change all that. Furthermore, I believe an in-depth expedition and raid of much of Albion could be possible with the way you are able to break beasts to your will, or at least use them, my lord Targarys. Albion has many creatures that you could manipulate to your advantage and our survival."
Sar'geth dipped his head slightly to his commander, then threw it back and downed the rest of the goblet of bloodwine. He smiled smugly, content in the warmth of the drink and believing in the strength of his own arguments. He concluded, "My final point, master, would be that we do not know how well-fortified or defended many of the isolated strongholds - for they are few and far between, make no mistake that if we attack one, it is not likely to receive help from the inhabitants of another - in Albion are, nor do we understand just how strong the obsidian city is. It might not be full-scale war to attack the place - we know -" Or rather, we think we know...I don't need to tell them of the latest, yet thankfully little-known, druchii accounts about them that I came across ten years ago... "that the fimir are not a very populous race, compared to how they were millenia ago, though they have resurfaced in terms of power recently. If we scout certain areas of Albion, we could learn which places are best to raid and reave - for there are surely some realms ripe for the picking in that boggy and undominated land, chock-full of valuables as it is - and then decide where to attack. There are thousands of victories to be won there, lord Viseryn, some you won't even have to fight in; the beauty of the place is that you can choose your own."
Almost as an afterthought, the wizard added, "A trip to Norsca first - could - be profitable, though. Whilst I admit that its inhabitants won't fight for glory alone, they are a bloodthirsty people, and if some of their tribes or villages are broken, they could be persuaded to work for precious little coin to fight for us. After all, our boat could carry them to lands they might be eager to reach, but otherwise untouchable by them; they could plunder things they hadn't even dreamed of. It's likely that many corsairs will die in the process of capturing these Norscans, though, if we meet some of the more hardened ones, so it could easily become a venture of no value to you at all. It carries a high risk of utter failure, but the potential rewards of success may balance this out. In the end, it is your choice where to go on your hakseer, my lord."
"Whilst we and the Imperials may have established colonies on Albion, nobody has yet traversed many of its secret places, so it - is - still largely a mystery to the druchii authorities. You could change all that. Furthermore, I believe an in-depth expedition and raid of much of Albion could be possible with the way you are able to break beasts to your will, or at least use them, my lord Targarys. Albion has many creatures that you could manipulate to your advantage and our survival."
Sar'geth dipped his head slightly to his commander, then threw it back and downed the rest of the goblet of bloodwine. He smiled smugly, content in the warmth of the drink and believing in the strength of his own arguments. He concluded, "My final point, master, would be that we do not know how well-fortified or defended many of the isolated strongholds - for they are few and far between, make no mistake that if we attack one, it is not likely to receive help from the inhabitants of another - in Albion are, nor do we understand just how strong the obsidian city is. It might not be full-scale war to attack the place - we know -" Or rather, we think we know...I don't need to tell them of the latest, yet thankfully little-known, druchii accounts about them that I came across ten years ago... "that the fimir are not a very populous race, compared to how they were millenia ago, though they have resurfaced in terms of power recently. If we scout certain areas of Albion, we could learn which places are best to raid and reave - for there are surely some realms ripe for the picking in that boggy and undominated land, chock-full of valuables as it is - and then decide where to attack. There are thousands of victories to be won there, lord Viseryn, some you won't even have to fight in; the beauty of the place is that you can choose your own."
Almost as an afterthought, the wizard added, "A trip to Norsca first - could - be profitable, though. Whilst I admit that its inhabitants won't fight for glory alone, they are a bloodthirsty people, and if some of their tribes or villages are broken, they could be persuaded to work for precious little coin to fight for us. After all, our boat could carry them to lands they might be eager to reach, but otherwise untouchable by them; they could plunder things they hadn't even dreamed of. It's likely that many corsairs will die in the process of capturing these Norscans, though, if we meet some of the more hardened ones, so it could easily become a venture of no value to you at all. It carries a high risk of utter failure, but the potential rewards of success may balance this out. In the end, it is your choice where to go on your hakseer, my lord."
Tenril stared hard at Rythia. Upstart bitch.
"I think it is safe to say I have plenty of experience serving aboard a Black Ark for decades BUT", he lowered his head to Viseryn, "if my lord wishes no full scale invasions so be it."
Tenril put his glass back on the table and stood up straight, the skin on his back still protesting painfully.
"I do not overestimate our changes. It is why I suggested 'mercenaries' in the first place. All things taken into account; why not whet our appetites with something simple? One of those Bretonnian isles?
That way we can evaluate our strengths and weaknesses and decide our next target from there."
"I think it is safe to say I have plenty of experience serving aboard a Black Ark for decades BUT", he lowered his head to Viseryn, "if my lord wishes no full scale invasions so be it."
Tenril put his glass back on the table and stood up straight, the skin on his back still protesting painfully.
"I do not overestimate our changes. It is why I suggested 'mercenaries' in the first place. All things taken into account; why not whet our appetites with something simple? One of those Bretonnian isles?
That way we can evaluate our strengths and weaknesses and decide our next target from there."
"As has been said earlier," began Karochi. "Bretonnia has a strong navy, so we would need to watch out for that could, ah, ruin our raid. So far, Norsca and Albion are the two contenders for the target of our first raid." Karochi looked at the elf who had mentioned a Daemon Prince. "I said, Champion of the Gods, not Daemon Prince. There is a difference. A Champion has mortal guards. A daemon Prince also has daemonic guards. Also, do we know which god granted the apotheosis? A Khornate would be too powerful to fight, we would not" - he looked at the elf with the crystal eye- "have the magic to fight a Tzeencthian. A Nurglite would probably be too disease bloated to fight safely-or at least, for those of us with no ranged weapons. And I am not sure how much effect a poisoned arrow would have on a champion of the Lord of Decay. Finaly, a Slaaneshi would tempt us, and some of us may be vulnerable to what he can offer us. Also, he would be blindingly fast, even by our high standards, so he would be very hard to fight. I would rather not risk it.
As for Albion, you, Lord Viseryn would have the honour of being the first elf to properly map it, and there would be interesting animals for you to experiment on as a beastmaster. Those are my thoughts."
As for Albion, you, Lord Viseryn would have the honour of being the first elf to properly map it, and there would be interesting animals for you to experiment on as a beastmaster. Those are my thoughts."
Arkeith let out soft hiss of annoyance.
"Bretonnia's navy would be problematic but practically every experienced corsair has been on raids to their country, it would hardly be as great a problem as some of you are saying...that aside, from this discussion Norsca seems to be best as it could allow the capture of strong slaves for pit fighting."
The Assassin glared at Karochi. "Albion is certainly a poor first choice but a tempting one for later on this voyage."
With a disgusted shake of his head he added "And I do hope this talk of daemons is mere jest, I wouldn't want to face a Daemon Prince even with an entire Convent of Sorceresses at my back."
"Bretonnia's navy would be problematic but practically every experienced corsair has been on raids to their country, it would hardly be as great a problem as some of you are saying...that aside, from this discussion Norsca seems to be best as it could allow the capture of strong slaves for pit fighting."
The Assassin glared at Karochi. "Albion is certainly a poor first choice but a tempting one for later on this voyage."
With a disgusted shake of his head he added "And I do hope this talk of daemons is mere jest, I wouldn't want to face a Daemon Prince even with an entire Convent of Sorceresses at my back."
Karochi laughed. "I am not the one who said there would be a Daemon Prince. He did." Karochi pointed at the elf who had mentioned the Daemon Prince. "In addition, it is only logic that a Daemon Prince would have daemonic servants. But no, I would not want to fight a Daemon Prince, for a the reasons I have already stated. And why would it matter whether we attacked Albion now or later? It is actually on the way to Norsca, so we would not be diverting too much."
Arkeith sighed. "I never said you were the one that mentioned it." Arkeith said to Karochi in a tired tone, he had never much had the energy for verbal debate.
"As for why not Albion first? It will be difficult, it will be unpredictable. In short it will be an unknown. One does not make their first target in a series of actions the one they are least sure about. You do not want to suffer too many losses at the beginning of a trip, you want to go somewhere well mapped, well recorded, somewhere our people have often fought before. Bretonnia and Norsca suit this most but, as already mentioned, Norsca would be less capable of an organised defense due to the nature of their divided culture with no central governance. Also Norscans would make better slaves. We could raid Norscan coastal villages and capture quite a few of them. As long as we are smart we could do so with minimal losses and a worthy gain."
The Assassin looked away from Karochi and meet each of the retainer's gazes with his own strange eyes before continuing "A strong beginning would do much to improve morale and prove to the crew that this expedition could carry with it great reward."
Arkeith sighed again, although this time inwardly, he hated speaking in front of so many.
"As for why not Albion first? It will be difficult, it will be unpredictable. In short it will be an unknown. One does not make their first target in a series of actions the one they are least sure about. You do not want to suffer too many losses at the beginning of a trip, you want to go somewhere well mapped, well recorded, somewhere our people have often fought before. Bretonnia and Norsca suit this most but, as already mentioned, Norsca would be less capable of an organised defense due to the nature of their divided culture with no central governance. Also Norscans would make better slaves. We could raid Norscan coastal villages and capture quite a few of them. As long as we are smart we could do so with minimal losses and a worthy gain."
The Assassin looked away from Karochi and meet each of the retainer's gazes with his own strange eyes before continuing "A strong beginning would do much to improve morale and prove to the crew that this expedition could carry with it great reward."
Arkeith sighed again, although this time inwardly, he hated speaking in front of so many.
"Well spoken, Arkeith. I will not risk everything on an expedition in the heartland of Albion. At least, after raiding Norsca and potentially Estalia and Bretonnia as well, I will have sufficient wealth. Albion is a risk; greater than the others. It would not do to lose everything on a roll of the dice. It has been decided; Albion shall be the last destination ... Or one of them, at least. I have something planned for the return journey. Viseryn took a sharp knife from the table and stabbed it into the map where it showed Albion. Nagronath will still be waiting for us at the end of the season, and it will do to resupply before we return to Clar Karond!"
"Alright, alright. I accept your arguments, Arkeith," said kaoochi. "So, Albion will be around last, and really, I do not want to fight a Daemon Prince until we have built up our power. I am keeping my stance, however. I am suggesting Norsca first." He glanced at Sar'Geth, boring into him with his unnerving stare. "When I retire to my quarters for the day, go with me. There are things we must discuss, and I am not sure anybody else need hear of them." Karochi's gaze went to Viseryn. "Unless, of course, you would have him go elsewhere tonight, my Lord."
Viseryn waved his hand dismissively as he took a sip of wine, and once he had swallowed, spoke indifferently, "Go with him where you will, as long as he's capable of attending his duties tomorrow. I have other plans for tonight." As he said this, his eyes rested on Rythia, before shrugging slightly and half-closing his eye-lids, letting the conversation flow over him.
So, Albion is out of the question, at least for now. Sar'geth's mind raced, calculating the options the group had for raiding. That fool Karochi seems to have cottoned on to what I am. I'll have to be careful around him; his invitation could be a trap.
Sar'geth remarked in an almost casual tone to Karochi, "Oh, I'll see you later. In my quarters, though, if you please." Sar'geth wasn't about to be ambushed, and preferred the relative safety of his own chambers in comparison to the other retainer's.
Sar'geth then raised his voice, and intoned, "Albion aside, I think we are forgetting the best place for raiding in the entire trip. Norsca could give us fighters we could use later on, so it might be a first option, but every good hakseer starts with a profitable raid. Estalia has some ancient treasures that might be valued, yet if, my lord Viseryn, you are attempting to raid and reave as much as possible and sail away with a ship filled to the brim with gold, I would recommend going to Tilea instead. It is a merchant state, and as wealthy, if not more, as any of the realms of men. And, as I said before, its military is primarily made up of sellswords. A port could be easily cracked like an egg by a well-planned attack." Sar'geth grinned eagerly, savouring the prospect of a raid on the overripe fruit that was Tilea.
Sar'geth remarked in an almost casual tone to Karochi, "Oh, I'll see you later. In my quarters, though, if you please." Sar'geth wasn't about to be ambushed, and preferred the relative safety of his own chambers in comparison to the other retainer's.
Sar'geth then raised his voice, and intoned, "Albion aside, I think we are forgetting the best place for raiding in the entire trip. Norsca could give us fighters we could use later on, so it might be a first option, but every good hakseer starts with a profitable raid. Estalia has some ancient treasures that might be valued, yet if, my lord Viseryn, you are attempting to raid and reave as much as possible and sail away with a ship filled to the brim with gold, I would recommend going to Tilea instead. It is a merchant state, and as wealthy, if not more, as any of the realms of men. And, as I said before, its military is primarily made up of sellswords. A port could be easily cracked like an egg by a well-planned attack." Sar'geth grinned eagerly, savouring the prospect of a raid on the overripe fruit that was Tilea.
"You think that my raiding crew can crack a port as easily as an egg? They are experience, yes, but still only forty-four bodies plus those here, and I would have to leave a token crew with the Bloodwrack. So, we have less than fifty bodies with which to 'crack this egg'. By all means, pitch me an idea on how I am to go about this?" Viseryn's voice was cold, his face stoney. The violet chips of his eyes blazed, staring deep into Sar'geth's, and his dark hair fell like a waterfall over the pauldrons on his shoulders, framing his face and in stark contrast with the pale skin.
When her Lords gaze slipped over her form she could not help but part her lips to wet her upper one. Yet as always such a gesture was hard to understand as the female could either lust after the male or simply desire to devour him. Or both.
"Rich merchants hire the best guards. Do not speak of mercenary's as if they where easy opponents." A small snicker left Rythia after she spoke her mind. "As our Lord so graciously pointed out, our crew is not that large. Ports are cracked open by small fleets and as..." Her hand gestures at the assassin. "Pointed out. A first...easy raid would do wonders to morale."
"Rich merchants hire the best guards. Do not speak of mercenary's as if they where easy opponents." A small snicker left Rythia after she spoke her mind. "As our Lord so graciously pointed out, our crew is not that large. Ports are cracked open by small fleets and as..." Her hand gestures at the assassin. "Pointed out. A first...easy raid would do wonders to morale."
Viseryn finally grew tired of the conversation, and had come to a decision. Standing abruptly, the young druchii captain drew one of his sacrifical daggers from where they were sheathed on a belt looping the backrest of his chair and used the blade to skewer the map to the table, through the centre of Norsca. “It is decided, then. Norsca shall be the first coastline we pillage. Lightning raids; low risk, and whilst we may not fill my slavepens, we’ll reap the rewards and prove myself capable to the crew.”
Standing, he strode the perimeter of the room and opened the heavy door to his quarters, and said, “Dismissed.”
Three days more passed, with poor weather ensuring that the Blacklight Tower on the southern coast - a jutting promontory which marked the split of the Seas of Malice and Chill - could only be very faintly seen. Late into the third, the weather turned for the better, despite a biting wind, and Karond Kar, the Tower of Despair could be seen in the distance, piercing the sky like an accusatory finger.
Viseryn had ordered Rythia be brought before him, and when she appeared, he took her hand and lead her to the centre of the room, every part the gentleman. On this day, he wore a khaitan of asur-hide dyed jet-black and sewn with silver thread in the form of dozens of runes over a hauberk of black mail, and a circlet of steel set with an emerald set into the centre, the form of a hydra surrounding it, confining his hair to the effortlessly coiffed form it had been set in. Around his waist, he wore his high-born sword and the sacrificial daggers.
Silently, he let her hand go and placed the index finger of his left hand on her waist and trailed it around as he circled her. He let her cloak bunch over his arm until he stood before her once more, when he brushed it off distractedly. His eyes, alight with interest, skimmed over her body until they finally rested on her eyes. He pulled her close, their clothed bodies pressed together. He took a breath and then put his mouth next to his ear, whispering airily, “I know the game as well as anyone, Rythia, and you shall not play me. But by all means, continue; it could be fun for the both of us.”
Sinthair had gathered the other retainers and growled at them to follow him onto the deck, where a light, hissing rain had begun to fall insistently; cloth soon became wet and heavier, metal had beads of water tracking down it to hang, glistening like diamonds, for mere moments before falling to the smooth deck. A number of corsairs were already sparring, and others were around, either clambering over rigging to adjust the sails or just leaning against the rails and watching the others work, cruel smiles twisting mouths or dark sparks of interest glinting in their eyes.
Master Kourla was on the aftdeck, stood at the railing and looking down on the training session. He cleared his throat and then cried out, “Halt!” Silence fell over the deck, corsairs breaking away from their opponents and looking at their true leader. “Our illustrious Captain Viseryn has expressed his wish that - should the mutineers be killed - we begin sparring together. We shall fight together, he is of the opinion we should practice together!
“I have taken his wish and ... Improved on the idea. The Lord’s retinue may be well versed in fighting against equal or exceptional odds. That is not how we fight -” at this, the Corsairs chuckled and threw amused looks at the retainers, “- so we shall be changing the odds! Aislinn, Sar’geth, Gutripper, you will be joined by Telemnar and Luth’van, and will engage Nag’Har and Varens. You will use the weapons you have, but shall not kill - any who do kill will be punished harshly!”
With a condescending and haughty look over the retainers, he clapped his gauntleted hands. The two corsairs, Telemnar and Luth’van, stepped forward, spinning cruel-looking knives and cutlasses. “If there are no questions, begin when you are ready.”
OOC:
Everyone:
Right, so we’re decided on Norsca first for our raids! We will visit other places, do not fear. What does your character think of the decision? What do you do after being dismissed; try and find more information about the potential enemies? Follow your normal training routine? Drink yourself into oblivion in preparation?
Now, the combat! This will simulate more how the combats will be when we get to the raids. Dice rolls will still be applied*, but you will not be able to kill each other (if there are terrible rolls against the corsairs, I may have one die, but whoever is unlucky enough would be punished!
*If you wish to fight one of the other PCs, feel free to discuss a series of moves, etc, and just let me know that you’ve done that! If you don’t want to do that, just post and ask me to roll dice.
Get, Vashra: Remember when you fight that you may end up against two opponents at once, or more if they gang up on one of you!
Rythia: It’s up to you how to proceed with the situation; you’ll not be punished for any decision. You can have some ‘fun’, or you could leave Viseryn’s quarters and join the sparring session (in which case, you will join Get and Vashra’s team.
I don’t want this to be a common thing, but I want one more easy test-combat before we get onto the Great Ocean, to ensure that it works well and won’t be weighted against one side or another during fights proper.
Standing, he strode the perimeter of the room and opened the heavy door to his quarters, and said, “Dismissed.”
---
Three days more passed, with poor weather ensuring that the Blacklight Tower on the southern coast - a jutting promontory which marked the split of the Seas of Malice and Chill - could only be very faintly seen. Late into the third, the weather turned for the better, despite a biting wind, and Karond Kar, the Tower of Despair could be seen in the distance, piercing the sky like an accusatory finger.
---
Viseryn had ordered Rythia be brought before him, and when she appeared, he took her hand and lead her to the centre of the room, every part the gentleman. On this day, he wore a khaitan of asur-hide dyed jet-black and sewn with silver thread in the form of dozens of runes over a hauberk of black mail, and a circlet of steel set with an emerald set into the centre, the form of a hydra surrounding it, confining his hair to the effortlessly coiffed form it had been set in. Around his waist, he wore his high-born sword and the sacrificial daggers.
Silently, he let her hand go and placed the index finger of his left hand on her waist and trailed it around as he circled her. He let her cloak bunch over his arm until he stood before her once more, when he brushed it off distractedly. His eyes, alight with interest, skimmed over her body until they finally rested on her eyes. He pulled her close, their clothed bodies pressed together. He took a breath and then put his mouth next to his ear, whispering airily, “I know the game as well as anyone, Rythia, and you shall not play me. But by all means, continue; it could be fun for the both of us.”
---
Sinthair had gathered the other retainers and growled at them to follow him onto the deck, where a light, hissing rain had begun to fall insistently; cloth soon became wet and heavier, metal had beads of water tracking down it to hang, glistening like diamonds, for mere moments before falling to the smooth deck. A number of corsairs were already sparring, and others were around, either clambering over rigging to adjust the sails or just leaning against the rails and watching the others work, cruel smiles twisting mouths or dark sparks of interest glinting in their eyes.
Master Kourla was on the aftdeck, stood at the railing and looking down on the training session. He cleared his throat and then cried out, “Halt!” Silence fell over the deck, corsairs breaking away from their opponents and looking at their true leader. “Our illustrious Captain Viseryn has expressed his wish that - should the mutineers be killed - we begin sparring together. We shall fight together, he is of the opinion we should practice together!
“I have taken his wish and ... Improved on the idea. The Lord’s retinue may be well versed in fighting against equal or exceptional odds. That is not how we fight -” at this, the Corsairs chuckled and threw amused looks at the retainers, “- so we shall be changing the odds! Aislinn, Sar’geth, Gutripper, you will be joined by Telemnar and Luth’van, and will engage Nag’Har and Varens. You will use the weapons you have, but shall not kill - any who do kill will be punished harshly!”
With a condescending and haughty look over the retainers, he clapped his gauntleted hands. The two corsairs, Telemnar and Luth’van, stepped forward, spinning cruel-looking knives and cutlasses. “If there are no questions, begin when you are ready.”
---
OOC:
Everyone:
Right, so we’re decided on Norsca first for our raids! We will visit other places, do not fear. What does your character think of the decision? What do you do after being dismissed; try and find more information about the potential enemies? Follow your normal training routine? Drink yourself into oblivion in preparation?
Now, the combat! This will simulate more how the combats will be when we get to the raids. Dice rolls will still be applied*, but you will not be able to kill each other (if there are terrible rolls against the corsairs, I may have one die, but whoever is unlucky enough would be punished!
*If you wish to fight one of the other PCs, feel free to discuss a series of moves, etc, and just let me know that you’ve done that! If you don’t want to do that, just post and ask me to roll dice.
Get, Vashra: Remember when you fight that you may end up against two opponents at once, or more if they gang up on one of you!
Rythia: It’s up to you how to proceed with the situation; you’ll not be punished for any decision. You can have some ‘fun’, or you could leave Viseryn’s quarters and join the sparring session (in which case, you will join Get and Vashra’s team.
I don’t want this to be a common thing, but I want one more easy test-combat before we get onto the Great Ocean, to ensure that it works well and won’t be weighted against one side or another during fights proper.
Rythia had been slightly surprised when she was so kindly escorted to her Lords chambers and she was even more surprised when the male in a fairly gentle manner guided her to the middle of his room.
Such dark thoughts still ran through her mind while her muscles tensed, preparing her to draw a dagger should Viseryn's mood be far too foul yet again.
"My Lor-..." The young noble broke her sentence in the moment a finger press against her slim waist. Of course armor still embraced the elves body in a protective manner but unlike plate or mail it did not hide away her form.
When she suddenly found herself pressed against Viseryn she could not help but let out a playful yelp. Fear no longer consumed her mind as at least the Lord proved to share the same desires as the rest of his kin. Yet the words that where whispered into her ear only caused her usual grin to appear and grow ever so wide.
"My...game?" In her new position it was ever so easy for her to whisper and then part her lips for a snarl. For the briefest of moments it truly seemed that she was going to bite and rip the males ear clean off. Thankfully in the end it seems the snarl itself was more then enough for her.
"My father did demand that I bed you, my mother did recommend I do so as well but..." Rythia seems to have a nasty habit of allowing herself far too many pauses when she speaks. "I do this because I desire it. You are...interesting and should our entertainment soothe your temper then that is simply a small perk."
The younger Druchii wasted no more air on words and instead she shifted her focus to her fingers that started to dance over her current partners form. They knew exactly where they had to slip to so their owner could loosen up the annoying leather straps that kept the males armor in place.
Such dark thoughts still ran through her mind while her muscles tensed, preparing her to draw a dagger should Viseryn's mood be far too foul yet again.
"My Lor-..." The young noble broke her sentence in the moment a finger press against her slim waist. Of course armor still embraced the elves body in a protective manner but unlike plate or mail it did not hide away her form.
When she suddenly found herself pressed against Viseryn she could not help but let out a playful yelp. Fear no longer consumed her mind as at least the Lord proved to share the same desires as the rest of his kin. Yet the words that where whispered into her ear only caused her usual grin to appear and grow ever so wide.
"My...game?" In her new position it was ever so easy for her to whisper and then part her lips for a snarl. For the briefest of moments it truly seemed that she was going to bite and rip the males ear clean off. Thankfully in the end it seems the snarl itself was more then enough for her.
"My father did demand that I bed you, my mother did recommend I do so as well but..." Rythia seems to have a nasty habit of allowing herself far too many pauses when she speaks. "I do this because I desire it. You are...interesting and should our entertainment soothe your temper then that is simply a small perk."
The younger Druchii wasted no more air on words and instead she shifted her focus to her fingers that started to dance over her current partners form. They knew exactly where they had to slip to so their owner could loosen up the annoying leather straps that kept the males armor in place.
Happy with the final decision Arkeith spent the next three days away from the other retainers, moving between practicing with his sabre on his own and sometimes with the crew, checking on the weapons in the armory, periodically doing some maintenance to them and meditating in his chambers for a few hours each night. The former Assassin appeared not to sleep at all to the others.
-------
Arkeith stood on the deck, as requested, and listened to the ship master speak with growing annoyance.
When the two sailors stepped forward the former assassin shook his head, golden eyes glaring out from under his hood at Kourla.
"Foolishness." Arkeith said coldly, his voice carrying to everyone on deck despite the poor weather "To risk the few lives we have on board in such a stupid display."
Arkeith's sword was torn silently from it's scabbard as the Khainite took up his usual sideways fighting pose but instead of putting his left hand on his hip he rested it on the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw it at a moment's notice to parry if needed.
Without warning he darted forward, his blade thrust swiftly at Telemnar's shoulder in an attempt to disable but not permanently harm the other Druchii. He wished to put one of his opponents out of the fight as swiftly as possible so he could not get surrounded.
-------
Arkeith stood on the deck, as requested, and listened to the ship master speak with growing annoyance.
When the two sailors stepped forward the former assassin shook his head, golden eyes glaring out from under his hood at Kourla.
"Foolishness." Arkeith said coldly, his voice carrying to everyone on deck despite the poor weather "To risk the few lives we have on board in such a stupid display."
Arkeith's sword was torn silently from it's scabbard as the Khainite took up his usual sideways fighting pose but instead of putting his left hand on his hip he rested it on the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw it at a moment's notice to parry if needed.
Without warning he darted forward, his blade thrust swiftly at Telemnar's shoulder in an attempt to disable but not permanently harm the other Druchii. He wished to put one of his opponents out of the fight as swiftly as possible so he could not get surrounded.
*practicing a series of offensive and defensive moves on the open deck his sword dances through the air effortlessly, seeming as light as a feather to any onlookers his footwork keeping tempo with his thrusts and parrys he reflected back on the other evening.
They had a host of new raiding targets and their master was no longer trying to act like a fool.
He had still yet to share his opinion on their course of action but truth be told he did not care.
Either way he fulfilled his agreement to his "sponsor" and by letting them argue amongst themselves he learned more about them whilst remaining an enigma in return and that was precisely how he liked it.*
They had a host of new raiding targets and their master was no longer trying to act like a fool.
He had still yet to share his opinion on their course of action but truth be told he did not care.
Either way he fulfilled his agreement to his "sponsor" and by letting them argue amongst themselves he learned more about them whilst remaining an enigma in return and that was precisely how he liked it.*
After the decision for Norsca had been made, Tenril did not only work amongst the crew, but started training rigorously.
"Thrice-cursed idiots...never been on a raid and they think Norsca is somehow EASY?"
With the last word flowing forth from his lips in a bestial roar he 'killed' two of his straw training dummies in quick succesive strikes.
Tenril breathed out slowly and gathered his thoughts, feeling the reassuring weight of Snappy on his back. A back that was starting to feel much better.
"They underestimate the Nordic barbarians", he whispered to his cloak. "Anyway soon they will know what a real raid is like and they'll finally respect me. They will see that their fancy armor and weapons do not mean anything and that speed is everything."
Tenril sighed and frowned. "You're awfully quiet today Snappy."
He could not remember when he started talking to the thing but it was fun to do so and it made him look unhinged which was good. Let them think you are unpredictable. Sage advice from the greatest captain ever.
A few days later he was positively surprised by master Kourla. He had used Gutripper to address him and not Tenril. A sign of respect, at least aboard a vessel. Or was it a snide remark coming from him? You just never knew for sure.
He watched as Arkeith flew towards Telemnar like a dark arrow. Great, sparring against freaky eyes and the tall one.
He unsheathed his weapons and waved an invite over to Karochi. Their fighting styles matched closely and he figured it would be the safest bet for them both.
"Care for a dance lad?", he asked with an added wink. "We'll show 'em some combat speed!"
"Thrice-cursed idiots...never been on a raid and they think Norsca is somehow EASY?"
With the last word flowing forth from his lips in a bestial roar he 'killed' two of his straw training dummies in quick succesive strikes.
Tenril breathed out slowly and gathered his thoughts, feeling the reassuring weight of Snappy on his back. A back that was starting to feel much better.
"They underestimate the Nordic barbarians", he whispered to his cloak. "Anyway soon they will know what a real raid is like and they'll finally respect me. They will see that their fancy armor and weapons do not mean anything and that speed is everything."
Tenril sighed and frowned. "You're awfully quiet today Snappy."
He could not remember when he started talking to the thing but it was fun to do so and it made him look unhinged which was good. Let them think you are unpredictable. Sage advice from the greatest captain ever.
A few days later he was positively surprised by master Kourla. He had used Gutripper to address him and not Tenril. A sign of respect, at least aboard a vessel. Or was it a snide remark coming from him? You just never knew for sure.
He watched as Arkeith flew towards Telemnar like a dark arrow. Great, sparring against freaky eyes and the tall one.
He unsheathed his weapons and waved an invite over to Karochi. Their fighting styles matched closely and he figured it would be the safest bet for them both.
"Care for a dance lad?", he asked with an added wink. "We'll show 'em some combat speed!"
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