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Colette tried to prepare for Regalia's attack, but the woman was quick. Compliments aside (though Colette found herself flushing at the woman's words), she prepared to defend, but missed Regalia's sword as it tipped her him. She took up her weapon and shook it off. "Impressive. Now I see why you are Captain of this ship."

Colette moved to the right, in front of Regalia and swiped at the woman's sword arm. However, the woman parried it off, but it opened Colette up for another attack. One that Colette took advantage of. As the Lamga came around, so did Regalia's weapon. The two hit with a metalic "clang" and held there, both of them pushing their might on the other, locked in battle.

It was almost poetic, in a way. "Your skill with a weapon is admirable, madame."

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William sat back slightly in his seat, feeling the carriage continue to roll forwards as he listened to the occupant's as they spoke. He gritted his teeth as Egerton, swearing he could feel the sliminess of the man on his skin, but he managed to force the feeling down. Not that he didn't relish the idea of knocking Egerton down on his self-righteous backside, but for now, William would keep himself in check, at least until this tale with Millicent and Rutherford reached a hopefully exciting conclusion.

Turning his attention back to Rutherford as he spoke, raising an eyebrow slightly as a phrase caught his attention. Another remark from Egerton almost took William's hand to the hilt at his hip, but he managed to suppress it behind a smile, distracting himself as he spoke.

"Mutually beneficial? Forgive me, but I'm not sure I follow."

"Simply they are both benefiting from this little arrangement," Egerton stated with a bit of a smirk on his features. Rutherford sighed but nodded in agreement before glancing over towards Millicent as a few words slipped from her lips.

"I suppose."

At least Rutherford seemed to somewhat share in William's dislike for Egerton. Why he had the man accompany him at all was a mystery, and as William glanced over at Egerton as he spoke, he enjoyed a brief fantasy of driving his dirk through where the other man's heart presumably was. Smiling slightly at the thought, William turned back to Rutherford.

"And where is it that we are headed for the wedding? I assume that's where we're heading at least."

Rutherford leaned back and looked over towards Egerton, motioning in the man general direction as Millicent looked back out the window. "We are heading to a friends home first to freshen up. The Kirkpatrick House in Annan," Egerton answered as he scratched his chin.

"After which we will be going to Gretna Green to be wed," Rutherford chimed in and there was a visual grimace that appeared on Millicents features.

William raised an eyebrow. In truth, he was genuinely surprised. The Kirkpatrick clan, more specifically Lady Kirkpatrick, was an impressively powerful connection for the two men to have. He did his best not to react to Millicent's grimace, pretending not to have notice as he smiled.

"Certainly friends in high places!"

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The foul and noxious demon of motion sickness came rolling back into the eyes and midsection of the fabled circus performer known to mortal men as The Great Bazhooli. It was with a certain lack of dignity that he, from within his cabin, searched frantically for someplace to unload what remained of the British street food from his stomach. He attempted to open the small, circular window, unaware of the proper application of the latch. Perhaps it was something to give greater attention to at a later time, but today, now, right at this moment, he had more a more pressing issue at hand.

Finally, he came to realize that he could not keep the partially liquefied food down any longer. And by "finally", he came to this worldly and sage conclusion about six or so seconds after the most recent onset of esophageal expulsion threatened to take place. It was a sad state to see a man so venerated laid low by the same common affliction that affected everyone else. Soon he might even be accused of snoring and taking to the horse races, rather than snoring and participating in the horse races. With merited consideration, Vladimir took what option he had available to him: He threw open the door to the cabin and let fly his vomitous barrage upon the deck. It splattered unceremoniously in a line starting a foot or two from the cabin door and reached outward, mostly straight but allowing for some minor variation due to the pitch and yaw of the sailcraft.

As if expecting applause, Vladimir extended his arms to either side and bowed, closed the door back shut, and looked to Constantin. "Bozhe moi... Maybe, maybe ve share bucket somehow, da? Middle of floor? Roshambos, for maybe?"

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Prayer was not in within the will of the dice, nor was it the decision of God Almighty to allow for the proper time to effect words of supplication in combat. Quite the opposite, as it turned from a sudden victory over the forces of darkness and atrophy into a sudden reversal of fortune. The bright spot where luck met with skill, resulting in a clean and smooth continuation of this pitched battle to the favor of the living, was quenched in an instant. Mary knew this lesson better than most; it only takes an instant for things to go horribly wrong.

Mary's grip upon her halberd was not ideal, following the skilled but desperate maneuver she had just executed. Her address to the Ryne, the invocation of the Trinity, was perhaps premature, as was her immediate attempt to hurl her weapon into the body of the Soulless a number of meters away. By the time she had extended her arm to release the godly instrument of His wrath into its target, the Ryne had somehow crossed the total distance from where it once stood, to where Mary was. Strong hands batted the halberd away from Mary's grasp, and before it even hit the ground the thing was upon her, ripping and tearing at her flesh in a manner that meant only one thing: Dame Commander Hale's life had but a moment remaining.

She could not even cry out. The damage done to her throat did not permit it. There were only a few short, gurgling seconds remaining before Mary would meet her God and make an accounting of her decisions in life. Right at that second, the only regret that she had was that she was leaving her friend to handle this task by herself. The light began to leave her eyes and she slumped to the ground. This was the price of her profession. That was all.

House Kirkpatrick: Right now, the trio with Maeve are holding their grounds and only moving a step or two if they need. It seems they are waiting to see what the Soulless do. Each Soulless is moving in closer to them but the fog seems to be slowing them down. It is thicker around the Soulless than it is around the group or the carriage, which gives you all the upper hand right now.



(Map Updated - Call your rolls If it does, slowly we will switch over to this system. Each round you will call for your actions, any movement will require a roll. A movement roll will be determined by 1d20 in Soulless Chat, you may roll this on your own. Your number is how many total blocks you can move in a single round without attacking. Forward, back, up, down, diagonal, retrace steps, whatever. Roll your movement, determine where you will go and then call for action rolls if you need them. If a Soulless is within 5 blocks of your icon, they can attack you most likely, so even call rolls if you are taking a defensive stance.)

Port Annan: "The highest," Egerton said with a slight smirk crossing his features. If one looked over towards Millicent it was hard to miss the fact that her eyes rolled and her fingers curled into a ball, knuckles going white. She got it under control quickly though and it was missed by both Egerton and her fiance Rutherford. Rutherford chuckled a bit though.

"Oh come on now, you are friends with one of the family, you aren't friends with the one that really matters," Rutherford chirped in. Millicent cocked a brow slightly and turned her head to look over towards her fiance. "He has not met Lady Kirkpatrick," he informed Millicent.

"This is Scotland, know one you know them all," Egerton huffed.

"You have much to learn still about the clans," Rutherford said as his eyes narrowed.

"Oh I am not talking about your Richard, you are far different from the rest."



The Bristol Ship: Whatever had happened had rendered the German passed out on the deck with one arm over the railing and his legs sprawled out. Oh he was alive but he probably didn't want to be. Granted throwing up never made someone feel like dancing. He was sleeping it off it seemed and he didn't care where he did that.

Things were calm now, the crew was recovering and those below deck would start to feel more like themselves. This was good. What was not good was the fact that the captain was looking around confused. "Where are we?" he asked as he looked up towards he sky but the sky was covered in clouds so there was no telling where they could be. There was no shore in sight. (Roll will be required to see if your character would think to go to the deck to check things out or to just decide to get some sleep. Roll 1d20 in chat, if you score a 1-15 they will just want to go to sleep. If they score a 16-20 they will get it in their mind to go to the upper deck and look around.)

The Sea: Hazel crosses her arms over her chest as she watched Fyror. There was agitation on her features. After a few minutes of just letting him struggle she half climbed over the railing to the crows next and tried to grab a hold of him. She slipped the first time but the second grab she got a good hold of him on the back of his shirt and used her weight to lean him over to the railing, spilling him out on the deck of the crows nest. Huffing loudly she jumped down back into the crows nest and looked at him. "Think you can handle standing up now?" she asked as she leaned against the mast that came up through the floor of the crows nest.

Things inside the captains quarters were getting interesting. They were weapon locked, both pulling off perfect attacks and defenses. The situation left them in a stalemate. Regalia tried to unlock them but they were still performing equally and there was no getting out of the weapon lock right then. For every twist she made, Colette countered it perfectly. There was a smile growing on Regalia's features as the motion caused them both to turn slightly but still no ground was gained for either of them. "As are yours."



Carlisle: Mary will not turn Soulless but she is dead now. This is leaving Virginia alone to finish the fight or flee.

“I... yeah... “ Constantin groaned a reply as Bazhooli asked them of the possibility to share the bucket. The younger man took a few deep breaths to calm himself both mind and body, as he felt the sensations of throwing up passing. Yeah this was definitely better than being throwing up violently. He took another few breaths before he finally let the bucket down on the floor around the middle of the room and then returned to sit back on his bed thing.” I... feel better. I think it passed for now.” He finally said, still carrying the aftertaste and sensations of what had transpired and he certainly felt like washing his mouth after that.

Looking about, at Vlad then at the room and finally at the very making of the ship. He wondered how well this will hold up if something was to hit it. After what he had seen, the weird ice soulless that nearly killed Veta, the ability to freeze a lake like that. Would this ship survive hitting frozen surface? How fast would it sink if it had a breach? That was a very important question that was gnawing at the back of his mind. He did not want to be left floating in the water... Still for unknown reason he suddenly got the desire to get up and see what was going on deck. The crazy German had yet to come to the cabin too. He just felt the urge to go check the situation. Being not used to ship, made him feel paranoid about a lot of things. Better be safe than sorry after all." Great Bazhooli, I will go check what's going on the deck." He said, got up and walked out of the cabin and towards the deck.

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The constant state of nausea put Vladimir in a state of relative un-grace. Perhaps it would not be appropriate to say disgrace, being as that word has ulterior context, but to be fair, the general state of grace that the man possessed was lessened considerably by the rising flood of vomit that continually tried to make itself known in the same manner as a breaching narwhal. It was very fortunate then that the man who sat, head in hands, upon the bunk in a tidy cabin on an oceangoing vessel, was in possession of much more grace than the common, workaday man. Enough to add his own splash of panache to something as (once again) un-graceful as losing his most recent couple of meals across the sturdy wooden planks of the ship.

But that last thought did remind him: "Da, da... Constantin? Vatch step on your vay out. Footing is... ah, slippery." Vlad was thinking of the very recent incident wherein he puked across the deck just in front of their cabin's door. "Vill stay here, I am thinking. Get some rest vhile I can. Please letting me know if anything happens, da? Spasibo." With that, Vladimir rolled fully onto the bunk provided him by the master of the vessel and snapped his fingers. Ordinarily an action he would do when sleight-of-handing a sharp object into his grasp, this time it was done in minor celebration of the fact that, despite feeling worn out over the past couple of hours' gastric exertions, he no longer felt the immediate and pressing need to upchuck. Whether that held or not remained to be seen. For the moment, The Great Bazhooli decided that rest was the proper course of action.

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Fyror's gaze came up to awkwardly meet Hazel's, his heart still beating irregularly in his chest. However, he sort of stopped short, his lips tightening when he saw the look of seeming irritation on her features. There was a glint of something, indignation perhaps, in his eyes a moment before he ripped his gaze away from her. Honestly, he was left feeling not only frustrated right then but now also miffed. He had nearly died just a second ago, and she was annoyed by what--the inconvenience? Needless to say, it rubbed him the wrong way. He took a deep breath, focusing back on the more pertinent issue whilst mentally attempting to shake off the sudden resentment he felt bubbling to the surface. Now, nor ever really, was the right time for that.

He looked up sharply when she suddenly decided to come to his rescue. He didn't have much means of breaking his fall as with a tug on the back of his shirt he went sprawling out onto the deck of the crow's nest. A grimace crossed his features as his already sore muscles were jarred. At the same time, he was also just glad to be on solid ground that meant he was no longer dangling precariously. His relief was somewhat short-lived though as he heard Hazel let out a loud huff. He hit his forehead against the wood deck before speaking. "Thanks," he managed to say nevertheless. "I think I can manage." He slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees before grabbing onto the railing in order to hoist himself up onto his feet.

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It genuinely astounded William just how infuriating Egerton was proving himself to be. Any other time, if a man, or indeed anyone, annoyed William this much, he'd either leave with haste, or try and knock some sense into them. For now, unfortunately, neither of those were an option. Not if he wanted to keep himself in the company of the party, or rather, more specifically, Millicent. A self-inflated ego is the nicest way that William could describe Egerton, but at least Rutherford didn't seem to tolerate all of his nonsense. And if nothing else, he now had a name for Rutherford, Richard. Although he didn't know what good it would do him.

Still smiling, and making sure he remained a part of the conversation, William took advantage of a break in the conversation to steer them back to their imminent hosts.

"From what I hear, if Lady Kirkpatrick gets her way, then we will all learn more about the clans"

"And just what do you know about Lady Kirkpatrick?" Egerton asked as he cocked a brow. Millicents head turned slightly to look over towards William but Rutherford just chuckled and waved off Egerton's inquiry.

"Now don't get in a huff, the woman is rather outspoken. Anyone in the country knows of her tenacity. She did tell off the House Of Lords last session," Rutherford chuckled.

If William was offended by Egerton, he made sure that his face showed no sign of it, the smile almost like a mask as he glanced at the man beside him, only for an instant, before he glanced back to Rutherford.

"Of course, I don't claim to know her personally. Merely heard of her during my roaming. Is she expecting us?"

The group over all seemed to be warming up to William a bit at those words. Egerton shook his head as he relaxed a bit in the carriage. "No, her nephew Thomas is the one that will be welcoming us. The man is a bit of a witless wonder but make no mistake that when the Lady Kirkpatrick passes he will be the head of the Kirkpatrick Clan," Egerton said as he glanced over towards Rutherford.

"If she ever dies," Rutherford chuckled a bit. "The woman is nothing like you have dealt with, I have and she is not one to be trifled with," Rutherford added with a bit of warning in his voice. Millicent looked over at Rutherford and Egerton speaking and Egerton smirked.

"Unlike your fiance here, if only more women knew their place," Egerton said smugly. Richards eyes narrowed as Millicent looked down at the ground quickly, her face loosing color as she did.

William held the smile, even as Egerton continued to blunder his way through the conversation. In truth, William was struggling to understand why Rutherford even tolerated the man. he knew that Egerton was an Earl, but from what he could tell, Rutherford was not short of noble connections, not least due to his own title. There must be something that William wasn't seeing, hopefully something that would reveal itself as he continued watching the group. He leaned back in his seat as he spoke again.

"I look forward to potentially meeting her then! Will we be staying for long?"

Rutherford teeth clenched but he let them loosen as he looked over towards William. "It should only be the afternoon, we wish to be at Gretna Green by dark," he said as Egerton slipped what few inches he could back and away from Rutherford whose fist was still knuckled white.

"Will she be there do you think?" Millicent asked meekly as she looked down at her lap, still not looking up.

"Nothing for you to worry about, I doubt until after you two are wed she would bother to remember your name Miss Wyndham," Egerton pipped in with a tense voice.

William bit his tongue. It was clear Rutherford was starting to tire of the topic, and with Egerton, he was continuing to be the mindless idiot that he had quickly proven himself to be. If he was to continue travelling with the group, he had to ensure that Rutherford didn't turn against him, and he had to keep tolerating Egerton. Wanting to change the subject, William turned to Millicent, trying to make his voice as kind as possible.

"I admit, Miss Wyndham, that I haven't heard your family name before. Where do you hail from, if you don't mind me asking."

Millicent looked a bit surprised that she was being addressed directly, her eyes moving towards Rutherford with this look of seeking permission to speak to the man. Rutherford nodded slowly and then she finally spoke. Her words were quiet and slightly meek as she spoke. "My family owns a merchant shipping company known as F. & W. Shipping. We come from Bedfordshire but summer in London during the season."

William smiled. Here at least, he could try and find some common ground.

"It sounds as if we are not so different then. My father was a merchant for much of his life, making his trade in the Far East."

"I trained in China, have you ever been?" Millicent asked, a bit of light flickering in her eyes.

Leaning back, and holding out his hands slightly as he shrugged, William continued.

"Unfortunately my travels have never taken me that far afield, although I was always captivated by my father's tales of his time there. I'm sure you have some stories of your own."

Millicent caught a glimpse cast her way from Egerton, his lips were thinning and his eyes were narrowing. Rutherford just sat back and wrapped an arm around his fiance. What joy she had in her features seemed to melt away into something more melancholy and she nodded. Looking down, her fingers seemed to pick at each other. "Nothing of ones that would be bring any joy to this journey," she said in a solemn voice.

Rutherford cleared his throat and looked at William. "Forgive her, but that time ties with her mother whom she recently had to witness as a Soulless in the battle of Almack's," Rutherford informed William as he pulled her a bit loser. "Perhaps we should change subjects."

"Yes, no one wants to hear of a woman's time in heathen country," Egerton stated flatly.

The easy smile had faded from William's face as he watched Millicent's sudden change in mood. He wasn't going to question Rutherford's explanation, despite Millicent being the one to initially bring up her time in China. Clearly Egerton had a greater effect over her than he had originally though. He leaned forwards slightly, towards Millicent.

"My apologies, Miss Wyndham."

Deciding to learn more about the character that was increasingly infuriating him, William glanced across to Egerton, forcing a smile as he did so.

"I would be interested in hearing about your own training, Lord Wilton. I'm sure you have some great stories to tell."

Egerton smirked. "A man of my standing needn't waste his time with paltry things such as that when there are plenty of out there to serve as meat shields if paid well enough," he said before his eyes drifted towards Rutherford and then to Millicent and the smirk increased causing Millicent to shift in an uneasy fashion in her seat. She looked up to Rutherford quickly.

"How much longer must we endure..." she began to say in a terse voice before calming it and continuing, "the bumpy carriage ride?"

(Those in collab, if you haven't already post what we have and we will continue from there. Those that have, pick up after the part in the update. Counters are reset for those in collab only as of this post.)

House Kirkpatrick: The fight continues. Many Soulless have been taken down, and our Heroes still are standing. More to come next round.



(Map Updated - Call your rolls If it does, slowly we will switch over to this system. Each round you will call for your actions, any movement will require a roll. A movement roll will be determined by 1d20 in Soulless Chat, you may roll this on your own. Your number is how many total blocks you can move in a single round without attacking. Forward, back, up, down, diagonal, retrace steps, whatever. Roll your movement, determine where you will go and then call for action rolls if you need them. If a Soulless is within 5 blocks of your icon, they can attack you most likely, so even call rolls if you are taking a defensive stance.)

Port Annan -> Towards Annan: Rutherford looked out the window and then over to Millicent. "Not much longer my dear and then you can get cleaned up from that horrid boat ride here," Rutherford said in an almost sweet voice. Egerton rolled his eyes a bit before letting the look fade form his expression.

"Yes, you can tend to making yourself presentable while us Lords tend to business," he said before his eyes went over to the man sitting next to him. "I am sure we can find something for you to do to pass the time while we wait to depart for Gretna Green," he added in a slightly annoyed voice. (And pick up from there)



The Bristol Ship: As Constantine steps out onto the deck he will see what was described in the previous update and a passed out Ludwig on the deck by the railing. Vlad will wake this round, being a bit groggy and have a little headache. It will not take long for him to notice that things seem calm now and that he is feeling as well as can be expected right then. He will also note that neither Constantine or Ludwig are around right then either. (Roll 1d20 in chat, anything 6 or higher will mean he will think to look on the main deck.)

The Sea: Inside the Captains quarters, things continue behind the scenes. Up in the Crows Nest Hazel looked over towards Fyror and nodded. "Last thing I want to do is clean up yer brains from the deck," she said with a bit of a smirk as she turned and looked out over the water. "Ye need to be gettin' some sea legs under ya if ye gonna be on this ship, gonna get yerself killed this way," she added as she grabbed ahold of the railing and hoisted to herself up onto it. Balancing with her arms out for a moment before simply standing there. The girl obviously had been on the ship for sometime to be at as ease as she was.

Turning around she pointed out along one of the cross beams, there was a torn sail on the far end. "that's what we be goin' to fix, you ain't scared of heights are ye?" she asked as she stood there and pulled out her knife before placing it between her teeth. Squatting down she started gathering a length of rope, looping it over her arm and across her chest. "Two man job, if ye don't think ye can handle it, tell me now." There was a look on her young face as if to say don't let pride get in the way.



Carlisle: Virginia will be continuing now. One Soulless is running away from the fight while the other two remaining are charging her with swords drawn.

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Virginia saw the death of her friend, uncomfortable reminiscent of dear Mosi's death less than three days prior. Bad luck supposedly came in threes: the death of Mosi, the threats against her brother's life, and now the demise of sweet Mary. While some may have cut and run, this was the cause that Mary had given her life to - and Virginia wanted to ensure that her dear friend would have a proper Catholic burial. She walked with her god now - just as Virginia knew one day she would greet Veliona on the other side of the veil. Mary would have enjoyed to hear about Ognyena - the goddess of celestial fire.

"Dark Mother, I pray to you," Virginia said as she advanced with her axe and swung, decapitating the first Ryne with ease. "Aid me in avenging my departed sister," Virginia added, feeling the melancholy and darkness as she decapitated a second Ryne, bringing the total slain to eight - nine if Mary was included in the number. She could mourn her later - now was the time for vengeance.

The three further out were moving in quickly, seeing now that one of those that were fighting was dead and they only needed to take out another. The one left near Virginia moved slowly towards her and grinned. "Oh, you must be a Crypt, let's see if we can send you home to your priors," he taunted as he pulled out a necklace that had the symbol of the Crypt family crest emboldened on it.

Virginia held her ground, her axe at the ready as she looked at the Ryne with shock. It had been a long time since she had seen that necklace, but she recognized it instantly. It belonged to her great-grandmother and had been taken with her mother and father before they departed for their voyage. The other three rynes were moving in yet were not yet close enough to attack, yet Virginia knew that she had to make a decision quickly. She could kill the Ryne and lose information as to the whereabouts of her family - or spare his life for the moment and risk falling to the same fate as dear Mary. "I am Virginia Crypt, head of the family in the absence of my father, the Lord Dywell," Virginia told the Ryne, as she readied herself to decapitate the creature. The Dark Mother could protect her parents. She knew her father was alive - it was written in the flames. She would seek life elsewhere and avenge her fallen sister.

"Head of a family of one? Some family," he chuckled as he slipped the item back into his worn coat pocket and smirked at the girl. The other three were moving in, their speed picking up as they moved from a walk to a jog; all of their eyes focused on Virginia. Pretty soon it would be four against one and the one closest too her wasn't waiting anymore as he lunged at the Crypt. His claws coming towards her.

She had spent too much time already focusing on the Ryne. She should have killed him already and as he lunged at her, Virginia blocked effortlessly with the blade of her axe. "The Crypt family does not part with Death," she said simply, her mind still focused on the task at hand. Kill the Rynes, retrieve her heirloom, and ensure Mary received a proper Catholic burial. She then swung her axe, decapitating the one that had dared to attack her and attack her family name. One of the Soulless - Virginia figured it sensed it was outnumbered - turned around and started to run in the direction it had come from.

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Maeve moved forward, peering ahead. The fog was obscuring their view, yet it wasn't as thick around them as it was around the Soulless - something to be thankful for. Figuring that she would give her peers as much aid as she could in order to slay these creatures quickly and effectively, she took in a breath and tried to unleash a banshee like scream - yet something caught in her throat and she couldn't make a sound. She was rendered mute and she coughed, trying to clear her throat some.

"Oh Fuddle," Calum said as he glanced over towards Maeve. The Soulless were starting to close in and Calum made sure to position himself between the crowd coming in from the west and Maeve. Rory on the other hand started moving northeast as one came around the tree. The two got into a rumble of sorts as it swiped at Rory, his sword coming down and taking the things head off.

Sally took a breath and leaned against her cane some as she watched the Soulless. She was calculating. One strayed from the pack in the north and came around the east end of the tree. Sally walked slowly but intentionally towards it, leaning on her cane as she did. Just as it lunged at her, her cane came up swiftly and she swung. The thing didn't know what hit it as he hit the ground and that canes head crushed it's skull as she thwacked it again, caving its cranium in like it was made of paper.

Maeve moved forward slightly from underneath the tree, having cleared her throat. She glanced at Calum for a moment, yet decided now was not the time for a death-wrought confession of feelings. She had only met him and it was just the stirrings of passion - not some deep love. Taking a breath, Maeve then unleashed the shriek of a banshee, stunning the pack of Soulless to the north. They would be easy prey for Lady Kirkpatrick - or perhaps Rory - now. Or even for Maeve herself.

Calum was the first to get to one of the Soulless on that side of the fight and as he spun around he proved to be much more agile in a fight than he did trying to walk. The rosary came whirling around and cracked so deeply into the creatures skull it took it clean off . He yanked hard and dropped to a knee flinging the head into the pond as the body hit the ground motionless. Lady Kirkpatrick and Rory had their eyes on another Soulless but hadn't managed to attack it yet as they got closer.

Seeing that Lady Kirkpatrick and Rory could both handle a single Ryne with ease, Maeve changed course. She noticed Calum off by his lonesome and she began to move quickly in that direction, sucking in breath as she prepared for another screech to stun the creatures. Once within range, yet still behind Calum, Maeve opened her mouth and let out another screech, stunning the Soulless in the area of her cry.

The Soulless keep closing in, far outnumbering the small group but they are not standing down. As one comes up to Calum he swiftly turns, just barely dodging the swipe of a knife as he brings his crucifix down and embeds it deep into the skull of another. Dropping it like a priest would drop to a knee in prayer. Another comes up to Calum and uses his distraction towards the the Soulless he just claimed to get a blow in. Calum grunts and doubles over as a fist connects with his side and a claw comes across his face, causing blood to spit out of his mouth. Calum is dazed but does not miss the third coming at him this round. It trips over the body of his fallen comrade and Calum is barely able to get an attack in but he does and crushes his skull under his boot. Things are slower over by Rory and Lady Kirkpatrick, the Soulless trying to pull a gun out on Rory but he manages to take the things hand off with a swipe of his sword. As he brings it back on the backstroke he takes it head off.

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The prospect of rest was apparently short-lived and dreamless. No sooner had Vladimir's eyes closed, it seemed, than they opened one again with what felt like a mild dose of the sickness that commonly visits heavy drinkers in the morning hours. Between the headache and vague feeling of disorientation, it was necessary for the primarily land-bound Russian to roll to the side and place both feet firmly upon the ground. Unfortunately, the support of solid earth underneath him was not to be had while upon a ship at sea. Still, Vladimir was not vomiting, nor did he feel that he was in danger of it imminently.

All the same, Vlad needed to get his bearings. Clear his head. Why, he hadn't even had the benefit of the gift of Tretiy Glaz in what seemed like a long while, in comparison to others of his people with that particular gift. Perhaps it was indicative of something. An imbalance perhaps, or something blocking him from glimpsing that which his forebearers would wish to show. Perhaps even the mere gift of that extra sight might be enough to cripple him in some way or cause him to rethink a course of action that, for whatever reason, the fates decreed must be so. It was puzzling. He raised his head to ask Constantin about just that, in an academic sense purely, when he realized that he was alone in the cabin. Funny, he was rarely ever alone.

The oft dramatic Russian slowly pulled himself to his feet, steadying himself against the pitch and sway of the ship. Once he found his rhythm, he ventured as far as to pull two of his many knives from off his person, one for each hand, and give them a little twirl. It was a thing that he did to center himself. Child's play, really, a basic exercise to acquaint one's reflexes with the weight and balance of the blades, which he often used for the purpose of focusing his intentions. Around each finger and back, ever spinning until they went from an overhanded grip to an underhanded one, and then back into their sheaths again. Vladimir blew out a breath and shook some residual soreness from his arms, straightened his clothes as best he could, and strode purposefully from the cabin in search of his traveling companions.

The sight that greeted him on the main deck was a little surprising, though not altogether unexpected. The mad German fellow was passed out, arms tangled upon the railing and legs akimbo. Vlad didn't blame him, he was in a position not utterly dissimilar earlier. It did strike him as humorous, however. Far be it for him to toss small, hard objects at a man unable to defend himself nor appreciate the sport of it; Vladimir decided that simply leaving him alone to sleep was the best course of action in the meantime. On the other hand, the crew seemed to be out of sorts about something.

Swiftly locating Constantin, Vlad spoke to him with some seriousness, "Константин, что случилось? Почему экипаж нервничает?"₁

Stepping out on the deck, the situation was not something he was used to. He just cursed in his mind something about bloody ships and returned to looking about. He saw a slumped over Ludwig fellow. He looked out cold.” Not my problem.” The fire walker concluded his paying of attention to the German. Not his problem, not his interest and no desire to deal with him. He probably felt real bad too to be in that case, so Constantin was going to take some joy in that as a part of his grudge being fulfilled. Might not have been from his hands, but it was satisfying non the less. More on that task pending at a later date.

The sky was cloudy and Constantin couldn't really see the shore. He looked left, he looked right and then at the crew. From what he had assumed they shouldn't have been so far in the sea that they cannot see the shore, right? He was a little bit confused at the situation frankly, but sea was not his domain so he wasn't aware if this was normal or not.

Vlad had appeared soon enough behind him, to Constantin sheer surprise frankly. He had assumed that the Russian man was going to be sleeping or something for a while.” Not sure... Just got here myself too.” He replied to Vlad.” Ve could alvays just ask, no?”

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Colette held firm, her weapon balanced against Regalia. If someone was looking in on this fight, it may seem as if both women were evenly matched, but Colette had a feeling Regalia was more trained and more experienced than herself. The very fact she was, more or less, holding her own surprised even Colette herself. She questioned what to do now. Did she try to move or attack by other means? She wasn't quite sure how far the woman wanted her to take this mock duel.

So Colette did what she thought would be best. In an attempt to disarm, Colette pushed herself back and lunged back at the woman, in an attempt to use the Lamga for its better use, the art of disarming her opponent. The dagger flew out of Regalia's hand and flipped through the air before landing point down into the floor of the room. Colette had managed to do exactly what she had aimed to do. Regalia spun around and took two long strides back as she brought her sword up.

"Impressive," she said before she came back at Colette but as she started to swing her sword it turned out to be a ruse as she came down and spun on one foot, stretching her other leg out and sweeping Colette off her feet and onto the French woman's back. Stepping back she took a defensive stance and waited. This was far from over.

Colette felt confident when she saw the woman's dagger being thrown off. Almost too confident considering she let her defense down and got knocked on her back. A slow blush crept across her cheeks. She had managed to disarm her of one weapon, which was good, but the woman was still capable. Colette stood back up and took a defensive stance as well. The Lamga was not an outright onslaught weapon. If she wanted to make progress, she needed Regalia to make some moves.

Regalia watched the woman and cocked a brow. Her free hand moving swiftly to the flintlock pistol on her hip and drawing it. Pointing it towards the woman. "Waiting can get you killed," she said as she took a step back and slipped the pistol back into its holster. "Sometimes you have to take the offensive," she added as she grinned. She wasn't ever going to pull the trigger but it was a point she felt needed to be made.

Colette understood that much. However, she wasn't stupid either. It was also better to go on the defensive, especially when you knew your enemy was a capable fighter. So when Regalia pulled out her pistol, Colette flinched, waiting for it to go off, but it did not. If Regalia wanted offensive, she will get it. Colette charged forward, spinning around with her Lamga in an arc to slash across the woman's chest. Hoping to get her to block with her sword.

And she did. Regallia bringing her sword up and catching the Lamga, blocking the motion and sending the weapons blade sliding off her own and then off the basketed handle of her sword hilt. Regalia spun around and began to bring her sword down in a slashing motion towards Colette.

Try as she might, Colette could not move out of the way of Regalia's attack. Her sword, nearly cutting the woman's arms (but only getting her sleeve sliced), was on her instantly. Colette brushed aside and raised her lamga. She seemed to be losing the duel, but she would not give up. With as much effort as she could muster, Colette spun the Lamga in her hand in a delicate arc, sending it against Regalia's sword arm.

Regalia found herself disarmed by the attack and cocked a brow. Stepping back she rose her hands. "I yield," she said with a hint of respect in her voice. She had been bested in this fight and while a loss was never easy she took it with honor. The woman had out done her in this test of skill. "Impressive, it has been sometime since anyone has been able to stand toe to toe with me, much less disarm me," she added, a smile coming to her lips. "You obviously need no one to protect you."

Colette took a few deep breaths before she stood up straight, Lamga at her side. She put in a large effort and managed to win. "You put up an amazing defense though. That was...exhilarating. It has been a while since I had a decent duel like that. Thank you." She walked over and put the Lamga back with the other weapons. "It's not a matter of protection. I did not wish to accompany Monsieur Kildragon because I needed protection. Our goals aligned and it made sense to travel together. He also had a carriage and I did not envy the walk. No, it is more companionship I desire. Not the romantic kind, but one of kinship. It's part of why I am on this journey because I had the sense and I worry for this lady's safety."

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Fyror's brows rose a bit at Hazel's comment in reply. Thanks, I think? he thought to himself. He let out a small sigh, shaking his head as she turned around. However, he soon followed her suit and looked out at the open ocean from their vantage point high up in the Crow's Nest. He had to admit that it was most certainly a spectacular view. He glanced back over at her as she had something else to add. He gave a short nod of his head, not that she could see it seeing as her back was still turned to him. He eyed her for a moment as she balanced herself out on the railing, seemingly unfazed by the sway of the ship and the sheer height they were at.

He took a small step back as she turned back around to face him, and his gaze followed hers as she pointed out a torn sail out along one of the crossbeams. His gaze whipped back to her when she said they were going be fixing said sail. "Not particularly," he answered her question, albeit hesitantly. Was she serious? I mean she literally just said that he needed to get himself some sea legs before he got himself killed, and now she basically wanted him to become a tightrope walker in the matter of a few minutes? His lips thinned as she started gathering up her supplies. He arched a brow at her. Yup, she's serious. He looked over the railing, assessing the height before he turned back to her with a sigh. "What will you have me do?" he asked resolutely.

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"Ask?" inquired Vladimir, almost in incredulity at the simplicity of the idea. Da, ve could make vith the asking, OR! Or, ve could stand by railing, feeling boat heave fro and to, to and fro, vith look of important-ness and mystery! Answer reveals itself, and ve say, 'Da! Da I am knowing this! But for friend, please explain. Is good?" The look on his face made it difficult to tell offhand whether he was being serious or comical. He finally broke the charade by huffing loudly and shaking his head. "Sorry. Joking. Am not having fun vith this boat ride." A quick look over in the direction of Ludwig made Vladimir shrug in the sole and simple understanding that it could indeed be worse. "I am thinking, maybe he is having less fun than I."

The concept of food had a double edge. On the one hand, his stomach was quite empty. A hardship he had to endure many a time in his life, and not one of which he was overly fond. On the other hand, the concern that whatever he sought to ingest might very well make a noisy and dramatic reappearance within a few minutes' time. It would be an honest statement that he did enjoy the Fish and Chips much more going down than coming up. Maybe after a rest, he would attempt again. First, he had something to discuss with the Master of this vessel.

The Great Bazhooli made his way toward the Captain. He did not wish to intrude upon his business, even as he would not want a guest of the Circus to come to him with inane questions while he was directing maneuvers among the Sem'ya. Maintaining a respectful distance, he called to the man in charge. "Kapitan! Er, for sorry... Captain! Vhat is the happenings? Needing help from Mother Russia?" He bowed and motioned to himself, indicating his openness to assist if it was requested of him to do so.

(Those in collab, get the collabs up now please and we will be picking back up as soon as you do. Counters are reset for those in collab only as of this post.)

House Kirkpatrick: This may continue another couple of rounds, update coming in Mauve's update.

Towards Annan: William and The Millicent Trio are in collab for one more round. Update coming in William's post.



The Bristol Ship: The Captain looked around and was not sure exactly what was going on, this was clear in the expression on his face. "I am not sure," he said to Vlad as he looked up at the sky and around the horizon. He slowly turned around, taking in a full 360 degrees of the water around them.

"We are not where we are supposed to be," he said after a moment or two. "The shore should be in sight," he added after another minute. Pulling out a compass he tried to get a direction before pointing off to his right. "We should be able to see it just there." The man was looking more and more confused as the seconds ticked by and the clouds rolled away from the sky. He could finally see the sky, which was no help right then as there were no stars. Well not as much help as he would have liked. The suns position helped some. "If I didn't know any better I would say we are much further north than we should be."

The Sea: The Captain and Colette are in collab for one more round. Update coming in Colette's post.

Hazel pointed to a length of roped tied to the mast. "Wrap that around your waist and secure it, I won't be cleaning up any mess from the deck if you were to fall," she said as she hopped down and and pulled off a small pouch from her hip. "You are gonna go out there with me and we be sewing it up. My stuff is in there, you just hand what I ask fer, gots it?" she asked but she didn't wait for an answer.

Walking over to the other side of the crows nest she stepped up and took a breath before she started walking down the cross beam. Her hands were slightly out to maintain her balance but she didn't seem to be having any problem. Getting to where the rip was in the sail she sat down, draping one leg over each side and locking her ankles beneath it as it was much thinner on this end than at the mast. Looking back towards Fyror she motioned for him to come on out. "Might wanna crawl if it being yer first time," she called out and leaned over, hugging the wood in demonstration.

Carlisle: Virginia is still in battle and will pick up this last round in collab. Update coming in Virginia's post.

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William managed to force a smile, turning to meet Egerton's gaze. The other man seemed to be growing more brazen in his contempt for Millicent, and now that also seemed to be directed towards William. Judge a man by his manners. A vague memory of his mother telling him that, and apparently William's first judgement of Egerton hadn't been wrong. He kept his voice calm and level as he spoke, careful not to show the annoyance he was feeling.

"I hope so, Lord Wilton. I don't want to impose on any pressing business you have, heavens forbid. I only hope we are away before dark, I fear that the dangers of the night are growing in these parts."

Millicent looked over towards William slowly and there was an expression of worry on her features. "Do you know of any attacks in the country yet?" she asked quietly, hoping there hadn't been but after everything it wouldn't have surprised her if there had been. Rutherford quirked a brow and looked over towards William as well waiting an answer. They hadn't heard of any as of yet but they had only landed a short time ago.

William met Millicent's gaze, shrugging slightly as he did, almost sympathetically.

"Not in Scotland, or at least not yet. But the attacks in England have been moving north, and I've heard word of attacks in Ireland as well. Something is stirring in the shadows, and I fear all of us will be affected by this blight once more before long."

Rutherford looked over towards Egerton. "Sure you don't wish you had spent sometime in the Far East besides sowing wild oats?" he said with a bit of a laugh but there was a hint of snideness to his comment. Millicent bit her bottom lip to try to keep from laughing and turned her head away towards the window, her eyes slowly going towards William.

William managed to suppress his own laughter as well, despite the pleasure he took from seeing Egerton ridiculed. He saw Millicent then to glance at him, and he smiled at her, meeting her gaze as he did so.

"Hopefully nothing will happen to disrupt the wedding."

Millicent took a long breath, her chest rising as she did. "Yes, one an hope," she said but it wasn't clear if she truly meant the words she was saying. Rutherford seemed to squeeze her slightly and she forced a smile towards her fiance. A town came into view in the distance. It seemed that they were nearly there.

"The house which we are traveling is just on the other side, we should be there shortly," Egerton said as his lips thinned.

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Regalia nodded and picked up her weapon, sheathing her sword and such before brushing the hair from her face. "That sounds more promising a reason, especially considering the way you handled yourself in that duel," the Captain said as she stepped over to her desk and began to pour two glasses of wine. Slipping one across the wood she smiled slightly. "If you were inept, I would fear if he did something you wouldn't be able to protect yourself. Seems I was mistaken. A rare thing but welcome in this instance," she added as she picked up one of the glasses for herself and took a long sip. "Keep the weapon, it is yours," she said with a smile over the rim of the glass as she sat down.

Colette picked the weapon back up, examining it more thoroughly this time. It was a fine weapon and considering she was out of options other than to remain unarmed, she was thankful for the opportunity. "If you are sure, you have my thanks." She brought it back over to the table and sitting down, she picked up the glass offered and took a sip. "If he did try something, I would have handled it. He does not seem like the type, but appearances are often decieving, are they not?" Colette may have been referring to Fyror, but Regalia also fell into that category. A beautiful woman, handy with a blade and commanding a ship, she did not seem like the type also. "I am pleased to have surprised you."

"As am I, we will have to do this again, I have to reclaim my honor," Regalia said chuckling a bit. Leaning back in her seat she placed her feet up the desk and crossed her ankles. Letting herself get a little more comfortable she looked at Colette. "So tell me, how long did you train in China? Actually, more than that. Why did you pick China? You don't seem like the type where money was an an issue. Those of wealthy usually prefer Japan," Regalia asked before taking another sip from her glass.

Colette knew this question was coming and she debated on telling Regalia the truth. She had no reason not to trust the woman and, if anyone knew what she went through, it would be another woman. "You are correct, but I had to go to China. My father arranged a marriage with the man I trained under. His son and I were to marry and I would receive training. It may have even been all right had the boy not been a.....ugly, horrendous toad!" Colette took a breath and calmed down. "I apologize. That was unladylike, but the boy was cruel and rude and not someone I saw myself being married to for years, even for my family. The trouble is, I am still to be wed to him. That's why I am in England. I do not wish to go back anytime soon."

There was a slight chuckle from the woman as she waved off Colette's mention of being unladylike and sat up fully in her chair as she pulled her legs off the desk and planted them firmly on the ground. "Then it sounds like the world would be a better place without him," she said in a coy voice as she set her wine glass down and laced her fingers together, resting them on the desk in front of her. "It would be a shame if something... were to happen to him?"

Colette nearly choked on her drink and a coughing fit ensued. As much as toad boy annoyed her and how far she wanted to be away from him, she did not want him dead. Hurt? Maybe. Embarrassed? Most likely. But not dead. "Oh wait. I do not wish him gone. As horrendous as he was, he is still a person. Maybe scare him a bit? Tell him to stop being such a....pompous arse? But not killed."

Regalia smirked a bit and nodded as she leaned back. Her hands pulling against the wood as she thought. Rocking back in her chair a bit until a light came to her eyes and she leaned back in towards Colette. "Well, some with souls are far more dark than those without but there are other means of getting what one wants. Would I be wrong to think that out of everything you want out of the little arrangement?"

Colette supposed the woman had a point. And she was sure this man's soul was darker than any other she had witnessed before. "I suppose not, but I still draw the line at murder. I would look into other means if I had the opportunity to do so or the means, of course, but as I did not want to show my hand to my father, who is still very adamant about this wedding, I did not want to do so at home. That is partly why I came to England in the first place. I just want a choice, I suppose is the best way to sum it all up."

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The Soulless closed in quickly around the four of the Soulled trying to fight them off and things were going well but the tides were starting to turn. Even though Calum and Rory were both able to take two more out and things seemed to be going in their favor it looked like it wouldn't hold forever. A gun was drawn and even though they were not a weapon to be counted on in this day and age, it made its mark and Rory stood silently as he turned slowly and looked at the Lady Kirkpatrick. Blood dripped from his mouth as he held his chest. The blood seeping between his fingers before he dropped to his knees and fell forward slowly. He was gone.

Maeve moved a pace west, the Soulless closing in on her and she was almost surrounded as she tried to let out a scream, using the technique of Riada. Yet her scream failed her once more. She couldn't afford to rely on screams any longer and she took her glorified stick in her hands, prepared to bat away at the creatures now with as fierce blows as she could muster.

There seemed to be a shift in the air and the sky grew slightly dark above them. Lady Kirkpatrick looked around as the Soulless froze in their tracks for a moment. The air getting colder and each persons breath could be seen. Was this a good sign or not, Calum didn't know but he took a small step back and looked up. Something was coming but he needed to focus on what he could deal with right then.

Maeve didn't have time to ponder the events either. Instead, she stood her ground and began to fight using her trained weapon. Her swing was poor at best and needed improvement, but the Soulless' defense was extremely lacking. She knocked it onto its back and tried for another swing, only for the creature to roll and dodge the blow. Gritting her teeth, Maeve gave it a third try and this time, the Soulless' skull was bashed in.

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Virginia snatched the family heirloom. not wanting to lose it, and she wrapped the chain of the necklace around her free hand. She would put it on properly in a moment. Two of the Rynes were closing in on her and she didn't want to become one of the Soulless just because she was fiddling around with jewelry. Her mind sharp, she dashed forward and struck at one, hitting it with her axe but it wasn't a clean blow and it merely injured the Soulless.

The Soulless bared his teeth towards Virginia and went to attack, his sword coming towards her. However, he missed as Virginia dodged with ease and attempted another swing. As if in some sort of irritating dance the two of them had arranged, the creature evaded her swing and Virginia let out a growl of frustration. The Dark Mother however was on her side - that much she was certain of. She gave it another swing and this time, she decapitated it and there was one foul creature left. "What do you know of the Lord Dywell and the Lady Crypt?" Virginia asked, looking at the creature, axe at the ready.

Constantin could only stare at Vlad who was having one of his Vladish moments. Constantin didn't have any idea of he was being dead serious or just joking right about now. Maybe he was doing both, it wasn't going to be too huge of a surprise and sure enough Vlad stated he was joking. Constantin could only ask in his mind if that was completely the case though. Nothing to be gained by questioning Vlad on his mood. “ That one is out cold... he must have had it real bad to be in that condition, indeed.” Constantin nodded when Vlad mentioned Ludwig.

Then the fire walker just a breath, taking in the ocean's salty air while his leader went to speak with the captain. From the sounds of it, the captain himself wasn't quite aware of what exactly was going on with the ship situation.' Great... bloody ships...' Constantin rolled his eyes. It was just great, they barely got on a tub on water and the problems came without pause! They didn't seem to know what their location was.” Further to the north?” Constantin mumbled to himself as he started to look around the horizon line. He couldn't see the shore too... How in the name of god was this possible?

“VAIT THERE'S SOMETHING THERE!” He suddenly exclaimed, his voice loud as a proper man from the circus. He pointed at the far north.” Something's far far to the north, there's a bump on the horizon!” He explained, his eyes focused on the thing he spotted.