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Viewing Single Post From: The Black Ocean
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Destroyer of (his own) worlds
"You flick the metal bits down. Flick the steely thing up. Put the thing on the thing and you pull it down again! Slip the bolt-y in the thingy and you aim at pirate scum! Faerie on troll-y -- what!?" Jack blinked as he quickly confirmed that there was something winged and pixie-like and making hand-y gestures on the troll-y's shoulder. In fact, he was aiming right at it. And then he jumped as the mast creaked, simultaneously pulling the trigger and squealing like a girl. "Elder's tenders!" He didn't even worry whether it had hit or not. Jack was already looking around frantically for what was happening to the mast.

And then he lay eyes on the bird. The bird! "The bird! Shoo-ey! Go! Use your wingly-wings and wing outta here!" The mast groaned some more, and Jack's eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed at the albatross. It smelt faintly of poop. He knew he couldn't carry the crossbow down while climbing the rigging, and so quickly looked down and found someone who looked like they needed a whack across the head. He heft the weapon above his head (the crow's nest not liking Jack standing up at all) and chucked it with all his might. It didn't go very far, and instead impacted rather forcefully with a draconian's back, who quickly flew into a rage, his fans quivering like a rattlesnake's tail. The closest to him: one of Roul's men.

The archers, however, could feel no such zeal. Many of them had simply dropped their bows, pulling out daggers and taking hopeful stabs at those engaged with some of the others, although as it turned out the Eel's crew -- and those under Roul's leadership, especially -- had more than enough skill to take on a poorly-armed combatant on the side. The archers were very literally cut down in seconds. The ones who hadn't abandoned their trusty weapons ran through the chaos, fumbling for somewhere where they could shine. Everywhere was being overrun. Meanwhile, the hiskrs and dracs were busy fighting on two fronts: those combating Roul's party and those fighting Yarba's as they poured through the shields. On the confined space of the ship, the fronts were quickly losing ground, and soon the Seahorse's combatants were back to back, cramping the sweeping combat style an untrained pirate preferred.

It was here where the pikes finally tried to make themselves useful. Bloom had always taught them the brilliance of having someone outflanked, and that was what they did now. Perhaps it was the fact that he was accompanying them that finally got them to move. They tilted their pikes skyward and then manoeuvred as quickly as they could, every pike backed up by a shield. Many dropped dead, and this almost shattered their resolve, although the ones that managed to get around their enemy found themselves in a far more advantageous position. Still from behind the shields, they began stabbing and jabbing at their enemy's backs, with the shields doing their best to watch out for both arrows and swords. Bloom was with them, cleaving at all he could, his blade quickly becoming slick with blood, and his teeth constantly gritted.

The undercover boarding party was faring far better than those on deck so far. By the time the pesky drac had returned to aim his bow, the two archers on the cockboat already had theirs drawn. They let him speak, humouring him, and then fired back at him, quickly reaching for more arrows from their quiver. They were reluctant to fire too many, knowing that they would need plenty more for when they were onboard the Eel, although for now they were content to fire a few more. They were confident -- mainly because they weren't even looking at the chaos atop the Seahore. Not even the sound of the falling mast fazed them. The shieldsman who was going prematurely white thanks to the albatross briefly looked at those propelling the boat. "Row faster."

Barrett had barely gotten another grenade to the other ship when he spotted the dwarf boarding their ship. Tiny saw him too. Barrett had a grenade held down for the hiskr, but the flint and steel never connected. Live on a pirate ship all of your life, and you hear a lot about magic, but you never see it. Now Tiny had seen it and he was awestruck. Barrett was decidedly less so. "Move," he murmured, and Tiny nodded, both of them looking around and making their way back to the poop. They tried to put the chaos of the fighting between the dwarf and themselves, but it all seemed far too one-sided at the moment, seeing as most of the melee was happening port-side, past the imaginary line that remained after the shields had been broken. And Barrett most certainly wasn't going to start burning his own ship. "Keep the fire coming, Tiny. You're doin' well." Tiny finally struck up another spark.

With his crossbow gone, Jack quickly clambered down the rigging, and every movement he made while on it was magnified by ten up on the crow's nest. He hummed as he moved down, rather excited by all the action that he could now see properly that he wasn't surrounded by wood. Paying particular attention to an orcish woman with a nice bum, he barely even noticed the mast finally falling over, bringing with it a tangle of sails and rigging, everything scraping against the foremast with the sound of Elefor itself being ripped apart. Jack pulled his khukuri out of his jerkin and howled just as the mast came crashing down, falling diagonally across the ship, towards the bow and slightly starboard.

"Jack's on deck, ladies and gentlemen!" Barely wasting a second, he ran into the fray.
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The Black Ocean · Sea Travel and the Islands

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