With each grunt of exertion the Fireen pulled himself higher, clinging to rope and mast to climb towards the crow’s nest with the agility of a sailor. The waves rocked the creaking ghost ship, but still he climbed, hardly weighed down by his durable set of Antireen mail armour, covering all but his hands and head. His face furrowed in concentration, plain with shaved hair, blue lights flickering beneath the skin the only evidence of the terrible energy locked within him.
With a final effort his hand clasped the top of the nest; he pulled his entire body weight up near instantly and stood to high above. With the dominant position assumed on the ship he looked downwards, Fury stood like a particularly observant bird of prey awaiting a morsel of flesh to scurry beneath him. Although he remained completely stationary his hands clenched momentarily, memories flooding his mind. This one had killed the wrong people, they may have been evil but they had families, and those families were able to appeal to him for help, for vengeance.
The act of revenge was one he was awfully familiar with, although the final justice he sought was still painfully out of his grasp. The wood creaked as the ship tried to tear itself apart under the force of the sea, and still Fury watched below. Slowly he turned full circle, knowing that wherever his foe lurked on this dark craft his ability to sense the energy he carried within would locate him…



Reply With Quote