Part 3: A reckoning rides from the west

Katrin doesn't say anything, still staring at the weapons that had caused her family so much pain. He's right. She knows that he is. But the part of her that hates, the part that seethes with anger wants nothing more than to purge them from the world. Her hands tighten into fists, her jaw tightening slightly. "I know," she says, her voice shaky and weak. She hates the way it sounds. "It just hurts every time I see them. I'm so tired of hurting."

For once Akiran is at a loss for words. Only able to slowly run his hand across the face of the cracked shield, his first creation. Though it haunted his dreams it's been years since he last truly saw it. It's far less ornate than the shield on his arm, he had forged it in the style of his people. Though the rounded iron shield and the faded clan symbol and silver dragon emblazoned on it's front was still ostentatious by clan Sovine's standards. Akiran flinches as the sky rolls, and the crash of the thunder sounds. For a moment he feared that Tempus would twist the dagger of his clan's rejection further. But as the breeze kicks up and cold winds scented with the fresh pines of his home washes over him. Akiran simply closes his eyes and gives a silent thank you. Looking back to Arkath slowly finding his words  "How....Did..ya find this. I...never thought I'd ever lay eyes on it again?"

"I know," Osrik says. "But we've got a fresh start here, away from our uncle. We can't keep dwelling on the past." Arkath shrugs. "One of da boys picked it up on da battlefield," he says. "Dunno what's holding it together. But it's sturdy."

Lilli opens her mouth to respond to Akiran's words, but when she spots Arkath coming over with something she just gives her friend an understanding smile and a squeeze of his shoulder before stepping back to allow the old acquaintances room to talk. She watches carefully, looking for any signs of intent to dishonor Akiran further, but as Arkath hands the broken shield to Akiran, she can tell there is something significant about it. She flinches at the abrupt peal of thunder, looking up at the sky and seeing the clouds that are beginning to gather far above. Lilliana eventually pulls her gaze and focus back to the two dragonborn, looking at the shield and it's design... realizing this was likely Akiran's once, long ago. Her eyes fall upon the large crack down the middle, listening to Arkath's words and wonders... 'The thunder... the shield... perhaps?' Lilliana sweeps her fingers through the intricate tracings of a spell to detect magical auras around her as she brushes her fingers across her eyes as they begin to shine with a bright, silver light. As she looks at the shield, she can spot the telltale aura of magic clinging to the armament, but there was something odd about it... almost as if it had the potential to hold more magic than with which it was currently infused. 

RisenZed said: "I know," Osrik says. "But we've got a fresh start here, away from our uncle. We can't keep dwelling on the past." Katrin can't meet his eyes. Her gaze falls to her hands, eyes fixed on her twisted fingers. Had he forgiven their uncle for the pain he'd inflicted upon their family? And why couldn't she do the same? It made her angry that he could forgive so easily, but she couldn't. "How can you forgive him? After everything he did? After he got us banished from ever returning?" Her voice is still quiet, still shaking, but with an undertone of anger now.

Akiran's hands hurriedly work to unstrap the shield on his arm, only pausing for a moment as his gaze drifts between the two shields. The dark grey rounded shield upon his arm, decorated with an intricate maze of silver etchings on it's face. It's design flawlessly flowing into the intricate patterns, & gleaming silver overlays of his armor, and complementing the greyish silver of the cloak on his back. All meticulously designed to capture and bolster the image he created, the Silver Blade warrior for hire.  It was a far cry from the shield in Arkath's hands. Forged out of dark iron, the design work on it's face faded yet somehow holding together despite the crack down it's center. Even a being without Akiran's dragon sized vanity would be inclined to prefer the former. But without a word Akiran drops his finely forged shield into the dirt and almost reverently accepts the shield that was his first creation from Arkath.  Reclaiming a piece of himself as he straps the shield to his arm, the first creation that he abandoned before he lost everything. Meeting Arkath's eyes he simply says "Thank you." & silently pledges to find a way to help his people, whether they want it or not.

From behind Akiran, Lilli looks Arkath in the eyes and if she happens to catch his attention... she mouths 'thank you' to the dragonborn with a smile and a nod. 

Shifting his attention to Kural, his posture straightened and his first shield adorning his arm. Akiran calls out in Draconic, his voice steady and a trace of his usual bravado "Tilabil, vucoti sia gewjlei tepoha xurwka ve unwelcome. Oli vucot batobot despite nomeno si geou mahhn slathalin for sia clvin. Wer ceta nomag nurti confn batobot wer clvin geou tuor sia letoclo, oli sjek wux rinov rigluin coi relgr ekess ve mrith dout arcanik & si geou confn."  Elder, I know my actions have made me unwelcome. But know that despite this I will still fight for my clan. The day may never come that the clan will want my help, but if you ever need it call to me with your magic & I will come.

Kural turns to face Akiran, his severe expression making Akiran think that he has misspoken somehow. But the elder's response is short and to the point.  "D out lexri re jihaia, Akiran,"  he says.  "N omag dout gewjlei reflect astahi." Your words are accepted. May your actions reflect them. A moment of significance that causes Akiran's breath to catch is the lack of the words clvin nuri  after his name. The elder had not called him clanless. He had not called him "of Clan Sovine," but this was a step. "Forgive him?" Osrik says, bitterness piercing his words. "No. I haven't done that und I won't. Not ever." He looks at Katrin and his expression turns kinder. "I just don't have the energy to keep hating him."

A gesture so simple, so small that most wouldn't even consider it a kindness. Fills Akiran's with hope that his fantasy of returning home was not truly out of reach, as the Elder says his name without adding Clvin Nuri. Standing tall once again Akiran nods his head in respect before turning and making his way back to his group.

Guilt claws at Katrin's stomach when Os speaks. But there was an odd undertone of satisfaction as well. Satisfaction that she wasn't the only one who hadn't forgiven him, but guilt at the lengths she was willing to go to hold on to a grudge. "Lets go home," she says, quietly and abruptly changing the subject from her inability to let anything go.

As Akiran walks back over, Lilli can see a substantial change in his posture after speaking with his clansmen. She smiles as she walks alongside him. "Seems like it went well, then?"

Bidding farewell to the dragonborn and the land, the Fireblades set course back to Dragonvale. Osrik's boat chugs along, the dual paddle wheels gently slapping the water. A mist has rolled down from the mountains, cutting off the boat to the outside world. Visibility is limited to 10 feet in any direction, and Osrik has to slow the boat down for fear of hitting something. Suddenly, the boat rocks sharply to one side, sending passengers and loose objects stumbling. Nobody goes overboard, and the boat settles back to the water as if nothing had happened.

Renley rears back and steadies himself against the returning jerk  of the vessel, glancing overboard first out of precaution against any actual danger while sighing at the thought of Os pulling the same immature stunt twice. As his eyes glow a piercing gold down into the murky water beneath them, he's already calling out to their 'captain'. "Fah be it from me, Captain, t'tell yuh when enough's enough but..." Something beneath the surface shifts. His eyes narrow, trying to pinpoint what he'd seen, but the low mist and dark waves ripple against his sight, obscuring whatever it was. "...Second thought Monsieur, do me a favuh and regale us once more wit' how yuh did that again. Cause sometin' down there's moving."

Osrik turns around from the controls, looking pale. "It wasn't me," he says.

Thrandimir stands and stretches, his grey eyes alight at the prospect of encountering Segoa after all. "As it happens, I did perform a ritual earlier to allow you all to breathe underwater..." the wizard mentions off-hand. "You're welcome."

Katrin's hands are pressed flat against the deck of the boat, her knuckles white as the ship rocks from side to side.  It wasn't me. "I swear by Tempus, Segoa better not be fucking real, Os," she says, panic and fear evident in her voice. 

Lilli stumbles to one side again, as Osrik messes around with his passengers once more and she shoots a glare towards him, but when she sees his face turn pale and hears his words she feels an iciness grip her insides. Her head begins to swivel from side to side as she quickly moves away from the edges of the boat and a tingling, burning sensation starts where her leg once existed. "Not again."  Not for the first time, she thinks back to the skeletal frame where her once beautiful wings existed and wishes  with all her might that she had them still. She frowns as she feels a strange twitch near her shoulders before two large, dark, spectral shapes erupt out of her back near her shoulder blades. She gasps in surprise as the shapes begin to form into a pair of dark purple wings the color of the twilight sky filled with sparkling, starlike motes of silvery light within their shape. She stares back at them, forgetting for a moment about whatever might lurk beneath the surface of this lake as she laughs with childlike wonderment. "This... cannot be!"  She wills the wings to flap and she finds herself rapidly ascending from the deck of the ship straight up into the sky!

There's cries and shouts around him that fade away as Ascian clings to the side of the ship near Renley, his eyes closing as he tries not for the first time to listen for something else. It's a hope, but a poor one – he knows it even as he mentally skims the water for something sentient. If the tales of the sea monster were true, this was not something easily bargained with. But Katrin had been upset, and was still upset, and for that alone didn't he have to try? What he finds is dark, and cold, and angry. No, not angry. Violent. The currents of the mind pull him in like a riptide, dragging him deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of depths that feel like they would crush even lungs that don't need to breathe. And the cold  – even to Ascian, it's jarring; physically and emotionally devoid of any warmth. If the pressure were real, if the water were, he thinks he'd be sputtering – a desperate bid to get out words to something furious while swallowing the ocean. Leave us, he manages, even as he begins to shrink away from the cold and claw his way back out of the creature's mind. This food isn't worth it. You'll only find pain.

A voice tears into Ascian's mind, harsh and jagged like a ragged-edged blade.  Not food. Trespassers. The pain tonight will be yours.

Ascian isn't sure if his physical body flinches, only that his mental hold drags over something toothed and cold. We're leaving. We won't come back. We're almost there.

It is too late. You have awoken the creature. The waters have been chummed. We will suffer because of this. You must suffer for our suffering.

What creature? The sudden knowledge that it might not in fact be Segoa he's speaking to hits Ascian – or worse, that it is, and there might yet be something worse. Who will make you suffer?

Segoa. The mental voice is accompanied by a vision of a large dark shape moving through the water.

"That's not Segoa."  Ascian pulls out of the cold, vicious current and swallows, stepping away from the edge of the ship and closer to Ember. "But it's furious. And afraid of it."

Katrin's blood runs cold. "What does that mean? Segoa isn't real, Ash. Segoa has never been real!" But even as she says it, she knows it's a lie. She can see the truth in his face. Whatever he had connected with....it knew about Segoa. And that meant..... But it can't be real. It's just a story. S he gets to her feet, getting as far from the sides of the boat as she could. Her hands are trembling, almost as much as they had been during her panic attack. After a moment, she adds, "What does it want?"

"Us to suffer," Ascian intones, eyes still on the water past the railing. Could Ember swim? He'd never wanted to have to find out.  "It thinks Segoa will punish it. For allowing trespassers. I told it we were leaving. It didn't matter."

She will devour, the voice says in Ascian's head. Better you than us. With that, a around a dozen water-drenched humanoid figures leap from the water onto the deck. Each figure's skin looks fish-like in the flickering torchlight. Fins and webbed hands and feet as well as long fish-like tails complete the aquatic image of the creatures. Some wield spears, some wicked looking blades. At least one bears no weapons at all. They snarl, but one looks at Ascian in particular, then shakes its strange head.  No. We will not shed blood here. I will take my men and go. We will flee to the Cresting Sea. The river is not deep enough for Segoa to follow. With that, several of the creatures dive back off the boat, following the lead of the one Ascian spoke to. The rest howl in clear betrayal, but turn their fury on the Fireblades.

Katrin grits her teeth, her fingers working quickly. At a spoken word, she's surrounded by an explosion of small, ethereal hammers, each bearing tiny runes along the handles and each on fire. She draws her sword quickly after, glaring at the fishy intruders, standing her ground. There was no way she was going anywhere near that water.

Tiny hammers smash against the face of one of the fishy priestesses. She shakes her head and sends a blast of energy toward Katrin, most of which bounces off the dwarf's armor. Likewise, the priestess at the boat's stern looses a blast at Akiran. The heat washes over the dragonborn's scales, scalding eyes and other fleshy bits.

From the sky above, Lilliana curses as she watches the glowing bolt strike Akiran. "I'm coming, Akiran!"  She wills herself into a steep dive, her celestial wings folding tightly against her form as she closes the distance towards the strange fish people from above. Once in range, her wings spread and halts her forward momentum. She gestures towards the fish-people with one hand, palm down as she presses downward as she manipulates the gravity around them. Joints pop and muscles stretch as they find themselves abruptly pulled down  towards the deck. 

Even as the others surge into motion Ascian stares after the creature that had spoken to him as it disappears into the water, mentally following the trail of its cold fury until it's swam out of range and he feels its severance and sudden absence like a knife. Turning back toward those that had remained, he feels the last remnants of the cold surge through him, coalescing into a faint green insignia glowing sickly on the chest of the creature nearest him. Raising his bow, he fires a shot and barely waits to see it hit before he's calling Ember to him and running back toward Thrandimir where he can best keep an eye on both sides of the fight – and most importantly, Katrin. "What are they," he asks Thrandimir quietly, bow lowering.

Even with the pain of the sea witch's magic searing into his scales, Akiran feels lighter, stronger, just plain better than he had in years.  Without a second thought the Dragonborn charges into the mass of enemies inhaling deeply as he runs. Pausing with a quick feint a moment before reaching the fish people, Akiran snout dips back and snaps forward. Unleashing a torrent of ice and blistering cold air into the mass of enemies, one manages to resist but the rest are fully caught in it's snare. His true shield raised in front of him and an enemy worth fighting in front of him. Akiran feels traces of his old warriors spirit rushing through him. Slashing in front him with a swift diagonal cut into the grunt by the boats edge, Akiran continues the charge knocking the fish to the deck. Raising his blade high, Akiran's heart pumps with a thunderous beat. His broadsword crackling with radiant lightning, a miniature storm unleashed as he cuts downward into the grunt.  For a moment he pauses, as the light clears and the power & thunder within him fades. Before he can think of where this power came from, the grunt shifts on the deck somehow still breathing. With a powerful kick to it's head Akiran shouts "Just die already ya little shit!"

As Akiran approaches, the eyes of the creatures widen in a blood craze. The creature wearing some sort of crustacean plate lashes out with a sword -- a flurry of attacks at Akiran. They batter and bash the dragonborn, even as the other similarly armed and armored creature near the bow of the boat does the same to Katrin. The both the dragonborn and the dwarf are able to parry and interpose their blades as much as possible, but the crazed slashes of the creatures is almost overwhelming.

Seeing the shark-like beings surround the crew, Renley waffles momentarily on where his talents were best served. He dashes across the slickened surface of the deck, his feet practically gliding as he draws a narrow blade from within his coat. "Allow me ,"  he nods to Akiran. The blade's tip slips swiftly between the downed man's ribs, then twists until a pained exhale tells him he's dead. With that taken care of he turns to face the behemoth of a warrior beside the two of them, his mind already running over each part of the fish-creature's anatomy for telltale points of weakness. There.  Between the scales separating the abdomen and the chest. A subtle gap in coverage granting ease of movement no doubt, at a cost of protection. The blade lunges for its target, but the thing turns and bares its fangs. Hardly up for baring his own, the good doctor smiles congenially, then strikes again. A satisfying slick  says he struck true, and the thing's body locks up, eyes rolling back and breath faltering.  "All yours, mon ami ,"  he says with a tip of his wide-brimmed hat to the dragonborn as he drops back a dozen feet from immediate harm.

Osrik joins his sister at the bow of the ship. His hammer slams down on carapace armor once, and then he aims lower. His hammer smashes into the armored knee joint of the creature, causing it to howl in pain.

sansasnark  said: "What are they,"  he asks Thrandimir quietly, bow lowering. " Deep Ones ," the wizard remarks ominously, not deigning to explain further. Taking a wide stance upon the deck of the boat, Thrandimir begins to chant in the direction of the strange fish people. Waving his fingers through the air as he makes a show of his 'ritual', the man pulls several tufts of fleece from his pouch, letting them fall in a circle around him. "Segoa, come forth!" The wizard croaks and the illusory head of a shark upon the neck of a hydra rises from the waters behind the fish people and bites down on the nearest of their number.

The "deep ones" near "Segoa" cower in fear, but attack Osrik and Katrin with their spears at the furious insistence of their clear superior with the blade. Despite the prodding, the dwarves remain mostly unharmed. On the other side of the ship, a deep one attempts to get his spear past Akrian's armor, but the dragonborn bashes the weapon away.

Katrin, only slightly reeling from the blow that she'd mostly managed to catch on her shield, slashes at the fish person in front of her. Too late, she realizes she's off-balance and her blade swings wide, missing her mark. 

The deep one priestess being eaten by the illusory Segoa takes several strikes to the face from Katrin's aura of spritely hammers before summoning a spiritual trident to free herself from its jaws. The trident stabs into Segoa. Thandimir tries as best he can to keep up the illusion, but the two other deep ones that were frightened by the spell recognize it as illusion. The other priestess reaches out with magical tangle of threads that wrap themselves around Akiran. The dragonborn struggles against them, his mind doing its best to fight off the effects of the spell. Just when it looks like he's about to succumb, Lilliana reaches out with her own magical abilities and rends the threads apart, destroying the spell.

From her high vantage point, Lilli looks down upon her still outstretched hand, the one with which she had obliterated the enemy's magical forces with her control over gravity, with shocked pride; she had not known herself to be capable of such magics, but she had done it! What her siblings would think of little Laurine now if they could see her, flying through air on spectrals wings of the night sky destroying the very weave of magic with but a gesture. It was something she would need to master, this had been pure instinct out of fear for Akiran as she'd watched his body locking into place; it had been raw and sloppy and effective, but now she was starting to feel winded. Her powers were finite and like a well being slowly drained, she was getting low. The more she got to know her powers, the more she could recognized that she had two separate sources of power she could draw from and she knew that she could siphon back and forth between them. And so she takes a moment to close her eyes and willed  some of that energy to siphon around, feeling suddenly invigorated at the flood of power.  She allows herself a grin as she slips through the air with ease, spinning with a dramatic flourish to get closer to their enemies. She looks down at them below and holds her hand out, palm down as she focuses on the gravitational forces around them with her powers. She presses down with her palm and watches as the three creatures fight against the increased pull. Suddenly the one whose powers Lilliana had countered collapses into a heap of broken body with a sickening crunch. "Akiran! Did you say all that?!" She calls out with a large grin before she flips over and begins flying towards the other end of the boat where Katrin and her brother were holding off more of these creatures. "I'm going to help the others! Take care of things here!"

Ascian draws a barbed arrow and fires at the creature nearest Akiran still dimly glowing with his mark, piercing the side of his arm.

Akiran's breath comes in ragged bursts, his mind still realing from the icy touch that nearly froze him in place. With a look of pure gratitude he looks up at the soaring Lilly "I owe ya one kid! Thought da bastards had me." With a quick pivot he spins his blade slashing low knocking the warrior off his feet. Akiran follows it up with a quick slash across the man's chest and smashes his foot into the being's face. 

The deep one with the large blade in front of Akiran twitches pitifully, still stunned from Renley's maneuver. The other snarls as he's bashed in the face repeatedly by floating hammers. He lands a light hit on Osrik's armor and then turns on Katrin. The dwarf easily interposes her blade and receives only a series of light scratches on her armor.

Renley was content, in the moment of his success in stunning the largest of the group, to recline back against the rail of the boat and allow the silver-clad warrior before him to handle things from there. His eyes even flitted up, curiously impressed by the flair of the young missus as she flaunted her spells from above. Yet the creature before them, even with his body practically locked up, barely seemed to suffer the blows put into him.  Gritting his teeth, he breathes sharply through them as he twirls his rapier about and pushes off from the siding. In a blink of movement he’s besides Akiran, who’d taken advantage of the moment to knock the ‘man’ over, and nods politely. The sliver-bladed tip of the sword thrusts twice at the weaker gaps in the chitinous covering that coated the scales of the creature, but even a seemingly direct stab makes little difference. “Forgive me, Monsieur Écaille d’Argent, puh’haps a more delicate touch is required…” Leaving his sword jutting from the thing’s side for the time being, he crouches low over him and brandishes a near-clawed hand. With a hand wrapped around its throat, he lets the edges of his nails dig through the scales until he feels warmth run down his fingers. His face shadowed by his wide hat, he feels his own teeth grow long at the sight. It takes more pressure, but finally, with the creature’s complexion paling rapidly, his eyes flash a brilliant gold. A surge of ink-like blackness runs from them and through his veins, coursing through his very fingertips and into the deep one until the light finally leaves its eyes… then all the darkness seeps back up through his hand, and he stands, pleased, to free his blade and turn to the final enemy with a smile. ”After you…”

Osrik sweeps his hammer low, trying to trip the sword-bearing deep one, but the creature proves to be more agile than the dwarf thought. The deep one leaps over the hammer swing, only catching Osrik's glancing second blow on his shell-like armor.

As the priestess crumples and falls under the psychic force of Thrandimir's illusory Segoa, the wizard turns his attention to the shielded warrior holding the centre of the line, wracking the fishman's mind with fear and paranoia.

The remaining deep one at the stern of the boat strikes at Renley, trying to draw blood. The good doctor is too quick, though, and easily sidesteps the spear thrust. Frustrated, the creature turns its ire back on Akiran and lands two blows that would be devastating if not for Akiran's quick sword-word and his well-built armor. The creature's expression morphs into something like fear and he turns to run, catching a glancing blow from Renley as he does so. He dives into the water and swims down. Harried by Katrin's aura of tiny flaming hammers, the deep ones at the bow of the ship fight fiercely against Katrin and Osrik. The dwarven armor and weapons stop the worst of it, but the siblings are left winded from the onslaught.

Her limbs are aching, and she can feel the bruises forming already on her body from the blows inflicted by their enemies. Bringing her shield in front of her, she splays her hand on her chest, allowing the warmth of Tempus' magic to return some of her strength to her. "These guys are pretty tough for fish," she remarks to her brother, slightly out of breath. 

Lilliana continues soaring through the air until she's hovering well above the fish people harassing Katrin and Osrik. Again, she holds her hand out and presses down as the enemies below find themselves being pulled towards the deck of the ship as bones creak and joints pop from the heavy gravitational pull.