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Fyror followed Hazel's pointed finger to some rope tied to the mast itself. Glancing back over at her, he gave a nod of his head in understanding as she explained what to do with it. It gave him some relief that they at least wouldn't be doing this without some kind of safety measure set in place. Considering his mishap just getting up into the crow's nest, he didn't want to take any unnecessary chances. He grabbed the rope and wrapped it around his waist as securely as he could, before looking back over at her as she further explained things. "Got it," he replied with an affirmative nod of his head. His gaze followed her as she was already making her way over and up onto the crossbeam. The deep inhale before she walked out onto it was the first and only indication that she may actually be slightly unnerved by how high up they were.

He slowly walked across the crow's nest as he studied her carefully placed footsteps and movements and hoped to God he could replicate it decently enough. However, her suggestion to instead crawl across did indeed sound like a better, and more importantly safer, option to him. He took in a breath and gave the rope a tug to make sure it was secure before he stepped up onto the railing without a hitch. He then bent down to hug the wooden beam as Hazel had demonstrated and slowly began to crawl across it. He made his way out with ease, at least until he got to one of the rope ties. He gritted his teeth as he got a bit hung up in it but was fortunately able to free himself and continue on at an admittedly slower and more cautious pace this time around.

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William watched Millicent as she spoke, a light smile dancing across his face. His gaze flicked across as Egerton spoke, and he turned fully to look out the carriage's narrow window as they neared the town. It appeared that he truly was along for the ride now, and he was loathe to abandon something that promised such adventure. Smiling slightly again, William turned back to look at Rutherford.

"So will we be continuing our journey by carriage after Kirkpatrick House?"

Rutherford glanced towards Egerton. "Of course, yet it will not be this low class assignment, but one more fitting of my station," Egerton butted in. Rutherford shrugged a bit as Egerton went on to how he would not be caught willingly in something as this again unless there was no other choice.

Deciding that he had perhaps exhausted his patience with Egerton, at least for now, William turned to look out of the carriage window, his eyes scanning the surroundings that they were moving past. Outside there was nothing of note for the musician, the town seemed like many other as the carriage went down the street. There really wasn't much anything of note for any of them though Egerton and Rutherford were not looking out the window. Both seemed to be fixed on each other. Millicent kept her eyes towards the window but if she spotted anything she said nothing. Remaining quiet as she touched her cheek gently and flinched a bit as her fingers pulled back in a hasty fashion.

William frowned as he watched the town rolling past. He'd hoped to see something at least, but for now, he turned his attention back inside the carriage. Rutherford and Egerton seemed wholly focusing on the other, but William's eye caught the movement from Millicent, and the flinch as her fingers brushed the bruise on her face, barely concealed by her makeup. William had glimpsed the bruising before, at the inn, but it still caused him to furrow his brow for a moment. His attention turned to the supposed source of her injuries. Rutherford himself.

His eyes flicked towards Rutherford's hands, and he could make out the rawness of his knuckles. A certain chill ran down his spine, and he was glad that he had his weapons close to hand. Unless he was a very talented actor, Egerton was no real threat, and he hoped that Millicent wouldn't side with her 'fiance', but Rutherford was clearly a dangerous man. Some dark feeling had been nagging William, buried in the pit of his stomach ever since he had first entered the man's company. He yearned to free himself from whatever malevolence beat inside the chest of Rutherford, but his what was left of his honour couldn't allow him to abandon Millicent to whatever fate seemed to await her, not without at least attempting to free her.

Outside of the carriage, things seemed to be calm. They had reached the other side of town though when the calmness was abruptly disturbed. A dark carriage, the Papal symbol emblazoned on it's side, raced past them on the road, heading south-east. The horses were being pushed to their limits, foaming at the mouth as they strained against their harnesses, the ground being torn up under their hooves, and beneath the wheels of the carriage.

William instinctively flinched back as the carriage tore past. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he glanced across at Rutherford and Egerton, keen to watch for any reaction from them. Seeing no flicker of interest from either of them, William shrugged. Settling back in his seat, content to allow the rest of the journey pass by in silence, William allowed his mind to wander.

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Regalia nodded slowly and ran her finger over the tip rim of her glass. It seemed she was contemplating something and a lightbulb seemed to brighten her eyes as an idea came to mind. "So you would not be opposed to him falling for another and calling off the wedding?" she asked with a slight grin to her lips.

Colette was a bit naive when it came to this sort of thing. The woman merely shrugged. "If he found someone that would actually wish to marry him, then that would be preferable. It would absolve me of the blame and maybe my father would actually listen to me for once."

Placing her hands in her lap Regalia nodded once again and watched Colette. "Well, having a man call off a wedding would be the easy part," she said before giving a slight pause and then continuing. "Having a man listen though, that might be asking for a miracle," she added with a bit of a chuckle.

Colette couldn't help but chuckle as well. She knew full well how men often acted. As if their opinion was the only one that mattered. And that a woman was best at keeping a home or cooking or sewing. Never mind the Soulless attacking everyone regardless of gender. No, it was best she be wed off so she could have children. It seemed awfully silly. "True, though I get the impression you won't take no for an answer."

Grinning Regalia shook her head a bit. "Actually if you want no one to try to sway the tides I will not force it. Your life is your own woman. Not my place to make that decision for you. However if you wish, when we dock I can set wheels in motion," Regalia said before downing the rest of her wine and resting the empty goblet on the desk.

Colette had to admit the thought of being out of this marriage would be a weight lifted of her shoulders. One of many, of course. She didn't know if she could fully trust Regalia's intentions with the man, but maybe it was best if she remains unaware. Life would be better for her and her family, especially if she had no hand in the matter. In fact, it may even look good on her. The man she was supposed to marry calls it off. Surely that would look favorable on her. Poor Colette got ditched. She could use that. "Do it."

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Calum turned his head and witnessed a childhood friend be killed. It was not something he was prepared for even though he had known it could happen. His eyes moist he attacked the Soulless closest to him but the creature blocked perfectly and came at Calum. It quickly turned into a brawl, both missing, both hitting. In the end, they would both be dead. Calum finishing off the Soulless just before he bled out underneath its crumpled body.

The rest of the Soulless advanced towards the two women left and even the horses. One coming up to one of the draft horses and putting a sword right into the beasts heart. It dropping hard on the ground. The other horse trying to bolt but the weight of the carriage and his dead mate kept him in playing as he whinnied out try to get away, fighting against the harness that kept him in place.

One came up to Lady Kirkpatrick but she was having none of it. Her old frame side stepping the pathetic attempt at her life as her cane came down and she took the monsters head off in a single back hand. She might have been old but the woman was proving to be anything but frail. She could see the bodies of Rory and Calum but she did not have time to mourn. There were still more Soulless to tend to before any tears could be shed, even then, decorum might prevent her from doing so.

Maeve inhaled sharply, not even having time to ponder if she was cursed as she stepped forward. Her first love, her husband - although they had lived more as siblings at the end - had been killed by a damned British officer. And just as her heart seemed to become curious in exploring with someone new, Calum had met a grisly end at the hands of a Soulless. But she could not dwell on such things. She needed to eliminate the threat - and work as hard as she could for dear Roisin.

Twirling her staff of sorts in her hands, she used her trained skill of Deasmhumhnach and bashed the Soulless into the ground, sending it to meet its creator. She allowed herself to take another sharp breath, but the battle was hardly over. There was another just a few paces from her - and she imagined more by Lady Kirkpatrick. She whispered a slight prayer under her breath for Calum's soul. It was all she could do at this moment.

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The bodies had piled up during the Battle At Carlisle, but even though most of the Soulless were dead or had ran off there was still one remaining before Virginia could turn her attention towards her fallen friend Mary.The clouds were starting to thicken again above, much like it had been before they had reached the city and there was static electricity in the air. The last remaining Soulless didn't take note of it as he drew a gun and fired towards Virginia. The bullet missed fully and didn't even come close to the Crypt woman.

"Thank you, Dark Mother," Virginia said, though she didn't know if it truly was an act of Veliona that had protected her from the bullet. Her family heirloom was secure and there was just one Ryne left as she dashed forward, steeling her nerves and her commitment as she swung her axe. It was a clean cut and the Soulless dropped to the ground, dead once more. Taking a breath, Virginia kept a tight hand on her axe. "Dear Mary..." she then whispered. Millicent could wait a little longer. She had a corpse to attend to. "Dark Mother, I pray you keep my sister Mary if her god is unwilling," Virginia said. She had no reason to suspect that Mary would not enter the afterlife she suspected - Virginia believed in many gods - but just in case, she thought it would not hurt to put in a good word for her fallen friend with the dark forces.

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So there was some sort of mystical chicanery afoot! Certainly, that must be the case. Whatever force of nature or act of magic that had moved the boat at such stunningly impossible speeds had not been as fluid of a transition as its originators had thought, for nothing short of witchcraft or bad borscht would have been able to lay the stomach of The Great Bazhooli low. In its own strange way, it was comforting. If he was correct, it was not the forces of the tides nor the accomplishment of any mortal creature that caused Vladimir to litter the deck with partially digested Fishes & Chips, nay, but the manipulation of supernatural forces. Such must be required to rattle a Bazhooli.

It was a nice sentiment, anyway. Into each generation Providence selected another Great Bazhooli, but the one chosen simply exhibited the best possible qualities of the concept of "The Great Bazhooli", given the choices available. Each was just as fallible as the last. Sadly, the concept of Pride was usually one of those failings. Such it was with Vladimir Dmitrievich Alexandrov. Another one of his failings (that day at least), as every man on board the ship was about to witness, was a singular sort of tunnel vision that prevented him from noticing a mast directly in his path. "Too far north? Sorcery! Act of Bitches! Vait, is not... Vitches! Da, act of Vitchcrafts. Is vhat I am meaning." he thought for a second, "But is helping us, yes? Is for some purpose. Huh? SOMETHING THERE? Let me see - !" The immediate turnaround to attempt to witness the dot of something in the distance was all that the mast needed to commit an act of assault on the legendary Circus performer. Vlad slammed into it face first, flattening his prominent but well-formed schnoz into the weathered, smooth wood.

Between the application of Fal'shbort and the once living tree that made up the mast, the inanimate object proved to be tougher, stronger, and more Russian than even the Greatest of Bazhoolis. Vladimir stumbled back before coming to rest very hard upon his buttocks in the middle of the deck, his nose streaming crimson and tweaked at an uncomfortable angle. "Мы налови́ли дохуя́ ры́бы! Мой кот ча́сто срёт под дива́ном! Переда́й, ёб твою́ мать, во́дку!"₁ he bellowed, though his voice was a tad off because of the nasal obliteration. In English, he said simply, "Costantin! You are right. Fuck boat."

(Alright, only one left in collab at this point is Morose in the Kirkpatrick Battle)

House Kirkpatrick: The Soulless to the north moved in and tried to take the elder Kirkpatrick's life from her but she was having none of it. Her already bloodied cane coming across it's jaw and then back swinging into its skull showed him that it was his life that would end this day and not hers. Yet as one Soulless was killed, another was doing some killing of his own and their other horse was slaughtered in the mix. Now, there was none to pull the horse. No quick exit at this point.

Lady Kirkpatrick moved to get closer to Maeve as another Soulless came towards the girl and took a swipe at her but missed. Things were getting more even now, two women left against three Soulless. With any luck, this fight would be over soon.



(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.)

Annan: The ride is going well enough but the carriage driver has slowed down greatly - there are more people about as they are going through town and once closer to the other side, the entire carriage rushing passed them scenario made it prudent to slow down. Egerton seemed vexed by the slowing of travel and voiced it accordingly with an added pound to the ceiling of the carriage. The driver didn't speed up. Rutherford just sat there and shrugged a bit.

Millicent however looked torn. Part of her wanted to get out of the carriage and place some space between her and another. The thing was, once they arrived, just what would happen and what else would she have to deal with. It had been a whirlwind of trauma over the last couple of days and she was not sure just how much more she could handle. Sometimes the devil you knew was better than the unknown. Either way, she would have to wait as the carriage turned down a road and continued to the further outskirts of the town.



The Bristol Ship: Ludwig snored a bit but he remained passed out with an arm draped over the railing of the ship. Seemed like it might take a cannon going off for the man to rise as the sound of Vlad breaking his nose and cursing didn't do anything to rouse the sleeping German.

The Captain pulled out a rag and held it towards Vlad before his first mate climbed up the main mast to their small crows net to take a look. Pulling out a spotting scope. Lengthening it before taking a look through it. "What do you see?" the captain called out.

"It's a ship sir," the first mate called back.

The Sea: Hazel looked over to Fyror and rolled her eyes. "Yo, over here," she called out to him. He was on the wrong side of the mast and heading out over the wrong part of the ship away from her. "Untie, this side, retie," she added as she shook her head.

Down below the ship was active as people moved this way and that. Jack and Marco both independently seemed to take note of something. Marco moving to the bow of the ship to get a better look as Jack went to inform the captain of what was going on. Inside the Captains quarters Regalia nodded and smiled towards the woman. "Then it will be done," was all she said before turning her head as a knock came to the door. "Enter," she called out as she stood up.

"Captain, we got a sighting," Jack said to Regalia before nodding towards Colette. Regalia moved out from behind her desk and over to Colette.

"I see," she said before taking a glance towards the weapon that Colette was now in possession of before turning back to the man at her door. "She is clear," she added and Jack nodded.



Carlisle: The Soulless seemed to be gone, or at least dead around Virginia right then. There were still yells and screaming coming from further into the city itself but where Mary lay, it was as calm as one could ask. Whether there were more within the city, it was uncertain. The screams could be from those fighting or those simply mourning. It was hard to make out what they were saying due to winds kicking up and distance.

The chill in the air and the darkness in the sky was increasing in the city of Carlisle. A frost seemed to be forming and it was almost as if snow was falling from the sky, all except for the fact that when the flakes hit the ground they did not melt. They just left a trail. A scream broke out into the city as a mass started falling from the sky. One could not make out what the scream was saying but one thing was clear. It wasn't in English, it had an accent of language Virginia had been exposed to recently. There was no mistake, that was the accent of the Circus.

Well stuff happened really fast and left Constantin in pure confusion as Vlad face planted right into the mast of the ship with a great force! The battle between a proud Russian and the mast was fierce, but lasted a mere moment, before the Bazhooli was out bazhoolied by the mast and fell on his bum with a broken nose. The mast unsurprisingly won this battle. This all happened as Constantin was about to study the horizons about other stuff since he got lucky once.” Quite so...” He replied to Vlad's statement on the ship and their opinion of it.

The Bazhooli's condition was his priority though and he had to help him deal with the broken nose. Then just as he hurried to turn and get to the Bazhooli, he turned and faceplanted right into the mast as well.” Damned boats...!” He cursed aloud as the impact made him rebound backwards, blood streaming down his nose as well now.” Проклето нещо, искам да те накълцам на парчета и превърна във въглени...“ He swore in his native language and threw a furious glare at the mast who had just won one over him as well. This thing was evil! Had to be!

This damned impact put a huge wrench into his plans to study the horizon more and help the Bazhooli. Now he probably should be healing himself. Been a while since he broke anything really. He felt still slightly out of it because of the impact and rubbed his eyes, before wiping some blood from his face.

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Fyror's brows furrowed as Hazel's voice sounded far off. He looked up and blinked several times in confusion as he stared straight ahead at a blank space. Where was Hazel? Better yet, where was he? He looked over his shoulder, following the sound of her voice. What the hell? he thought to himself, his eyes widening in dismay as he saw her positioned on the completely other side of the mast. I went the wrong way?! How on earth does that even happen?! God, I must be losing my mind. He shook his head at his mindless, and dangerous, blunder. As much as he would have gladly contemplated how much of an idiot he was, he knew that right then was neither the time nor the place. After all, he was precariously balanced several feet up in the air with nothing but a crossbeam and a rope to prevent him from falling to his death. Yeah, now was definitely not the time.

He shook his head in exasperation at himself, before cautiously getting himself turned around on the relatively thin crossbeam. However, it was definitely easier said than done. He felt his heart leap into his throat as he slipped and fell just as he got himself facing the right direction. He grunted as his chest thwacked the wooden beam, and he quickly grasped the beam with his arms before he could plummet further downwards. He wasn't about to test to see if he had actually tied that rope around his waist well enough or if it could actually hold his weight had he tied it properly. I'm not dying today. He gritted his teeth as he heaved himself back onto the beam and uneventfully made the rest of the way across to the crow's nest. He let out a small breath of relief as his feet touched the deck of the crow's nest, but his relief would be short-lived, as he still had to make it safely across the crossbeam again but this time going in the correct direction. He untied the rope and retied it on the appropriate side, before preparing himself for Take Two.

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Colette wasn't quite sure what devil's contract she just signed, but if it meant she would be free from a possible life under a man's thumb whom she could not stand, then it would be well. She pictured Millicent again. That woman most likely knew all too well what she was referring to. She hoped she was all right. Fyror was probably panicking still.

Colette turned once the knock came and saw Jack enter. She stood up once Regalia came around her desk. The man glanced at her weapon and she put a hand on it protectively, but Regalia assured him. She still felt a little unnatural taking a weapon from her, but it was best if things got crazy.

"Pardon me for asking, but sighting? What did you see?" She hoped it wasn't another creature that capsized their last boat. Or worse.

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Sitting bodily upon the deck with blood freely moving from his now mildly misshapen (but still epically Bazhooli-eque) nose, Vladimir was not particularly satisfied with the events of recent hours. Come to think of it, pretty much everything since he had booked passage upon the boat was darkened by a shadow of ill fortune or unknown factors. Such was the nature of life, he supposed. Every moment of every day a new and shiny piece of adventure, every unfortunate turn of fate a new obstacle to overcome. But the most insidious, the most diabolical, nay, the most dastardly evil obstacle that existed within the present hour was that damnedable mast.

Instead of venting his fury upon the stalwart sail-holding former tree, Vlad remained seated to view the approach of Constantin. His lack of action betrayed his comrade, as it allowed ample time for the mast to strike again. And strike it did. There was only one logical course of action to be taken at this time.

"Damn you!" he roared at the offending mast, blood and spittle flinging distastefully from his face in his empassioned rage. "Damn you, mast! Damn you to Hell of Many Lovehungry Bear! You have dropped gauntlet, and insult vill be answered! ...but first, must see to friend." He looked to Constantin, who bore injury identical to his own. A last glance at the mast concluded his monologue to the inanimate object with a snap of, "Are lucky for now!"

To his fellow Circus performer, he spoke from a more lighthearted position. "Costantin! Did not know you show Great Bazhooli such favor, as to break own face to appear more like him! It flatters, da? Of course. But ve must fix, Constantin Firevalker. Dot in distance makes us vait for while longer, unless boat makes magic trip again. Come! Come." Vladimir took a long look at Constantin's nose and moved to straighten it with his thumbs. As he did so, he felt his mind fall into the rhythmic thrum that often accompanied his personal application of Krasnoye, or the Rusyn Training Skill of healing physical trauma.

The touch was not with him as much as he would have liked. His own discomfort, the shakiness of his legs after the massive vomiting session, who knew? But Constantin's pain had subsided, if the injury itself was not fully knitted. It was an okay start. "For sorry, Constantin. Ve try again, little later, eh?"

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William could feel the carriage begin to slow, no doubt due to their progress deeper into the town, and William allowed himself to relax slightly. All in all, the last hour or so had been a rush of activity, and he took a moment to truly take stock for the first time. He couldn't truthfully say what it was that had inspired him to offer to join the party. Practicality of offered transport? Some distant echo of honour? Or was it simply boredom? He was jerked out of this self-reflection by the sound of Egerton pounding on the roof of the carriage, urging the driver to increase their pace. His eyes glanced across to Rutherford, to see that the other man didn't seem phased by the delay. It was William's glance towards Millicent that caught his attention however.

The young woman was clearly tense, her face drawn as she nervously glanced around, reminding William of an animal about to bolt. But it wasn't Millicent that so fully grabbed William's gaze, rather it was what was beyond her. As the carriage turned a bend, he could make out wheel tracks cut into the earth, the sign of a carriage that took the turn far too quickly. He shifted slightly to get a better look, glancing at his new companions before gesturing towards the tracks as he spoke.

"It appears someone is in far more of a rush than we are."

House Kirkpatrick: Last round for this fight - will continue once the end of the battle is posted.

Annan: Rutherford looks out the window and nods. "That is does," he said before tapping the roof of the carriage.

"Now what?" Egerton asked as his eyes narrowed.

"I want to check this out, especially after the attacks in London and your home," Rutherford said curtly. Millicent looked over nervously to glance out the window as their carriage slowed and turned to follow the tracks back from where they came from.

"I thought you want to get married," Egerton said but Millicent kept quiet. Perhaps a delay wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"If there are Soulless then it can wait," Rutherford growled before looking over at William. "Good eye man," he added as he reached down and adjusted the leg of his pants. Millicent looked a bit confused but griped tightly to her riticule as she sat there. A delay would be fine but after what happened at Almack's she didn't want to deal with another attack.



The Bristol Ship: Time to wake, time to rise from slumber, though dark dawn is near, at least in the mind. Clearing cob webs. In other words. Ludwig is finally waking up and looking around. Wiping the drool from his mouth he stood up and looked around.

People, so many and blood. A fight? Lost to the masses or to the mast. Whichever but a capped captain and a capped first mate looked through the looking glass. "How far down the rabbit hole did we go?" he asked as he looked around. His knees dipping as he scurried, weaving to the captain. Take the glass, took the glass. Spying, spy through the glass. See what they see and what they do not. Stopping he lowered the glass and a broad smile crossed his lips.

"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Argh matey's it look to be La Canela! If I's be right, that be Captain Montoya's vessel!" he exclaimed as he thrust the spy glass back to the captain and started smoothing his hair.

The Sea: The man looked over at Colette and then to the captain. "A ship it seems but there shouldn't be any this far out in the waters right now, not in this weather," he said before stepping out of the way and waiting for the Captain to take the lead. One she had he offered his arm to Colette if she wanted it.

The captain was quick to move up to the main mast of the ship and look out. Her hand holding out as a spy glass was placed in her hand and she took a closer look. "Yes, smaller vessel. In tact but it looks like the mast is damaged. Turning heading and go to it, they might need help," Regalia said quickly and Jack nodded before rushing off to tell the 1st mate to follow that ship.

Hazel looked down and spotted the captain before turning and looking out over the water. "Fyror, hold there," she said as she started coming back to the crows nest and slipped into it. Resting her hands on the railing she took a closer look and cocked a brow. "What in bloody hell is a fishing vessel doing out this way?" she asked herself before looking over towards the tall man near her. Leaning over the edge of the crows nest she yelled down. "Captain! Flag?" she called out and Regalia shook her head.

"Not yet, just ready yourself in case," she said and Hazel nodded, checking herself for her dagger and keeping an eye out.

Carlisle: Will be updated after Virginia's next post.

Still gathering his mind after an impact like that, Constantin blinked a few times as his ever so loud and grandiose leader had a speech. Vlad's speeches were nice and Constantin especially liked the initial part where he swore revenge on the evil blood hungry mast. At least he wasn't appearing as if suffering from any shame of having lost to it. The fire walker himself felt a little stupid for having fallen into such a simple defeat like that.

“Thank you, Bazhooli. Let me help too.” He finally said as Vlad moved in to apply some help with his nose by the use of Krasnoye. It wasn't too effective, but it did help with the help somewhat. That was a big plus as Constantin wiped some more blood from under his nose. Couldn't quite remember when he had his nose bleeding last. Still as the skill was applied to him, Constantin slightly invigorated by the lessening pain, reached to apply now Krasnoye on Vlad himself. He felt like the effect was rather powerful this time around. He could roughly guess that Vlad's nose should be properly healed by the looks of it.

“Damn... he voke up... I vish he slept for some more time.” The firewalker suddenly groaned when he heard the voice of a certain German fellow. Why did Ludwig have to wake up right now? Constantin really briefly pondered throwing him at the mast too, but the mast thing wasn't the German's doing so... then again he had other stuff to be responsible about. The revenge was not being forgotten quiet yet. Still Constantin picked a rather curious thing in the works of the German. Something about La Canella which he vaguely recalled the Ludwig mentioned earlier too. Constantin quickly cast glances at the captain and the rest of the crew to see their reaction. They were confused, which made the firewalker also confused.” Those La Canela people shouldn't be a problem... I hope?” He asked aloud. Made him ponder why they appeared here out of all places in the well ocean. He didn't know exactly how big ocean was, but he knew it was big... or so he was told.

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Maeve held her position, eyeing the Soulless that was in a diagonal line across from her. Calum had already perished and angered by the loss of what might have been, Maeve gritted her teeth and jumped upwards, in order to utilize additional height. Her Shillelagh came down on the Soulless, caving its skull in and it crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. She then eyed her next target.

Thankfully there were only two left now. The odds were even now and the Lady Kirkpatrick wanted to get this over and done with. There was still one over by Maeve but she was handling herself fine. There was another over by the carriage, one who had killed both their horses. Bodies were piling up and this needed to end. There were the sound of hooves off in the distance but Sally wasn't worried about it just yet. Turning her old eyes towards the one further away from Maeve it seemed to eye her as well.

It moved quickly and came charging at her. Sword unsheathed. It took a swipe at her and the old woman was able to block it but the back swing caught her on the leg. Thankfully the thick layers of peticoats finally had a purpose. It only cut her leg slightly. She came up with her cane and caught it under the chin. blow for blow the two held each other until finally she caught the creature by the back of the head and ended its soulless existence. Taking a deep breath she leaned against her cane and looked back towards Maeve, hoping against hope the young girl would finish off this last bit of inconvenience.

The Soulless came in for its attack, getting closer than Maeve would have cared for and for a moment, she held her breath, certain that it was about to strike true. Yet perhaps in some stroke of divine intervention, the creature missed and exposed its back to her. She then came in with a swing, her Shillelagh hitting the Soulless in the back of the head and its skull cracked, as it then crumpled to the ground. She took in a breath. The fight was done. "Calum...Calum!"

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Virginia retrieved her second axe, wiping the blades clean on one of the fallen creatures. She saw the precipitation that seemed to be like snow and heard the accented voices - voices of the Circus. Yet as she attempted to think through what it could be, she could not help but doubt herself. Perhaps it was Veta. Or perhaps it was something else entirely. She then looked at Mary's fallen form - she had begun her next great adventure now.

"I will ensure your burial is proper," Virginia swore. But there was the safety of the city to consider - there were still screams. And she had a burning curiosity to determine what those flakes were. Steeling her resolve, she headed forward into the unknown. Perhaps it would give some sort of explanation as to how space and perhaps time were warped, resulting in their speedy arrival in Carlisle. Without Mary by her side, the journey felt lonelier than ever before. She had not known Elizaveta properly - but Mary was a good friend.

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Fyror was about to hoist himself up onto the railing in order to get to the crossbeam when Hazel suddenly called out to him. He paused what he was doing, arching a brow in question. Nevertheless, he did what he was told and stayed put. He watched as she made her way back to the crow's nest with that same practiced ease she had exhibited earlier. His inquisitive gaze followed her as she walked over to the edge of the crow's nest. His brows furrowed at her next words, and he walked over, settling beside her to see for himself.

He looked out over the open sea to see the ship that she was talking about. His eyes narrowed slightly as he peered out at it, but a part from the obvious, he couldn't make out anything particularly noteworthy about it. He glanced back over at Hazel, before following her gaze downwards. Leaning over the edge slightly, he spotted the captain. However, what he also noted was that he couldn't see Miss Fontaine. Wasn't Colette suppose to be with the captain? he thought to himself worriedly.

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William allowed himself a smile as Rutherford called for the carriage to change it's course, following the tracks that he had spotted. Both a delay, to allow William to find his footing in the group, and assess his best move, and also the potential for yet more adventure. Rutherford was right, perhaps William was simply growing more cautious, but he would be lying if the Soulless hadn't been the first thing to come to mind when he saw the tracks. He nodded in thanks for the praise from Rutherford, and shifted forwards slightly in his seat in anticipation.

Thankfully, the musician was hardly unarmed. If it was to come to a fight with the Soulless, he was as prepared as he could be. The dirk, sheathed and lying almost across his lap due to the way he was sitting, had been a gift from his father, ad had been well-used. The Solingen steel that it had been forged from had been whetted with Soulless blood so many times that William had started to believe it had developed a taste for it. And if the dirk was not enough, then the solid shape of the kopis, pressing against his back, would rise to the challenge. It was those two blades that William had wielded for years. He had others, but he only tended to use them out of necessity. He was a romantic at heart, in truth how could he not be, and the pair, the ivory and the ebony hilts, were simply too poetic for him to ignore.

Thinking of his companions, William turned to glance at them. He couldn't tell if Egerton was armed, but considering the man's mocking of needing training, he expected the man to be more of a liability than a help in battle. Millicent on the other hand was trained, but William was fairly confident from looking at her that she didn't have a weapon. It was Rutherford that caught his eye the most. Although he couldn't make out the individual weapons, he could tell the man was heavily armed. William allowed himself a slight smile as he stretched his right shoulder, shaking a s light stiffness from it. Now this was an adventure.

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Colette accepted the arm offered and followed her outside, unable to ascertain what was going on. A ship that shouldn't be out? Perhaps they were traveling like them and got stuck in the storm or were attacked. Or perhaps it was a trap. She had wondered if pirates were still out and about, plundering from ships they managed to trick.

She glanced over the railing towards the ship. She noted its size similar to other fishing vessels she had seen. Her thoughts of pirates and traps quickly subsided. It seemed they were in trouble. She waited for Regalia to be sure before she voiced her question. "Anything you want me to do? I'll admit I do not know the first thing about ship handling or sailing, but I am willing to learn if it means helping."

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The crunchy popping sound that was the defiantly Romanesque nose of The Great Bazhooli took him a little by surprise, as was the immediate flash of pain that accompanied the noise. It usually didn't hurt to have the application of Krasnoye, but then again, most of the time steps were taken to assist the technique's ease. Setting a bone as best as possible before healing helped, or so he had thought. But this was a nose, not a femur. And Vladimir really couldn't fault Constantin - his work was excellent. Far better than his own use of the same skill just moments ago.

Vlad raised a hand to his face and gave his nose a little squeeze. Nothing. No pain at all, as if the injury had not taken place. He grinned broadly and clapped his hand about Constantin's shoulder. "Da, da! Good. Feels good! Spasibo, Constantin. I vill try again vith you later. For now..." Vladimir spread his arms wide, accepting the spray of the elements and the sea as it came to him. His grin was accompanied by a sudden light in his eyes, one that a fellow Circus performer would recognize as the currently reigning Great Bazhooli preparing to embrace something unknown and adventurous.

With his arms still wide, Vladimir turned his head to view, in turn, both Ludwig and Constantin. Vitality thrummed in his voice as he roared, "Come, my brothers! Let us give trouble varm embrace! Yes? Yes!" The odd man was having the time of his life. New people to meet. Were the hostile? Did they speak a language he could not? Would he join his forebearing Bazhoolis in death, stand victorious over a pile of knifeslain corpses, or would he make new friends this day? The moment held so many dramatic possibilities for a man such as he, who embraced the fullness of life and adventure at every opportunity. "HA!" he laughed into the wind and water. Let them come.

House Kirkpatrick: Lady Kirkpatrick took a deep breath and shook off the bloodied remains from her cane. Shaking her head she took slow steps towards Maeve. This was not a good situation. They had lost both Calum and Rory in the battle, as well as both of their horses. At least the child had been swept away before this whole thing started. There was some peace in that. What little could be found but if the attacks had reached Scotland, it could mean there were more coming and heading east.

"He is with God," was all the lady said before she turned as she heard something coming their way. "We may not be done yet," she added as the sounds of hooves increased.

Annan: "What in bloody hell?" Lord Egerton said as the carriage crested the ridge and came through a clearing of trees. Millicent looked out the window to see a devastating scene. Bodies were strode out all over as well as two horses in front of a carriage. Standing there were two women, one much older than the other.

Rutherford cursed under his breath and opened the carriage door swiftly as it came to a halt. The driver, pulling out a pistol as soon as he could hold the reigns in one hand. Millicent gripped her dress and went out after Rutherford. Egerton moving to grab the girl by the arm but missing. "What in hell happened?" Rutherford asked as he stopped in his tracks, getting a better view of just how many dead were lying around.

"We decided to hold a reenactment of Battle Of Waterloo, what in blazes do you think happened here?" Lady Kirkpatrick snipped as she gave a shake of her head.



The Bristol Ship: Hate, why so much hate. He was good, not mad. Strange but tame. The captain looked over towards Constantin. "I wouldn't know, perhaps you should ask the man who seems to know something, oh wait you wished he still was asleep. Funny, you wish answers from someone you seem to detest. Odd fellow he seems but kind, you on other hand, seem a down right asshole my sir," the Captain spouted and walked off from him.

Ludwig paid no mind, looking to the sea, grin on his face. Push up the glasses, see better with. He heard nothing until Vlad bellowed. Hard no to hear, hear to be heard, yes. Adventure and grins. "Friends! Yes, friend! Sweet friend! captain Montoya!" he yelled as he waved his hands.

"Seems you know the ship," the Captain remarked as he came to the rail.

The Sea: Hazel lowered the glass and laughed, leaning over the rail. "Crazed German at twelve Captain!" Hazel yelled in an excited voice.

Regalia quirked a brow and chuckled a bit. "I see, ready to sail beside," she said as the crew got to work. Looking over at Colette she shook her head. "Nothing to worry about, an old friend. Strange fellow to be ready but harmless," the Captain said as the ship sailed forward.

Together On The Sea: The ships sailed close together, the Captain of the one which held the German and Russians laid anchor. Captain Montoya's ship pulling up slowly next to it. It was far larger than the small fishing vessel. Ludwig wasted no time as he grabbed ropes that were tossed from the men of the ship he referred to as La Canela and tied them off.

A dark haired lady walked to the rail of her ship and looked down at the men there. "Ludwig, it has been far too long," she called out to him. "Who are you with?" There was a goofy grin on his features as he motioned for the Russians to come over to him.

"Captain my captain! Circus! I joined the circus!"

"The circus?" the woman asked confused as she looked over towards the others on the small fishing ship before glancing over towards Colette. "I should be confused but with him, it is a constant state," she said quietly.

Carlisle: As the Soulless where Virginia had been fighting were now dead, some residents of the town were now peeking their heads out of their homes and buildings around the girl. An older man came out slowly, armed, but it was obvious he had been far too old to be any help during the battle. He could barely walk and used the stick he held as more of a cane than a weapon it looked like.

"I have her, please go help our city," he asked in a weak voice as what appeared to be his elderly wife came out slowly behind him with a shawl to lay over Mary's features.

More voices were heard, various languages being spoken. Mostly English but there was a mix of others as well. Bits of conversation cutting in through the air. "How in the hell?" "This isn't London." "Ice? This time of year?" - The accents from the voices varied and none seemed to be of England.

"It's alright, Great Bazhooli. It doesn't hurt too much anymore." Constantin commented having completely healed Vlad's nose. That was one good thing that happened, what followed next was not as much to his like though. The captain dared to call him an asshole. Constantin's eyebrows locked in a displeased manner as he stared at the man. Who was he to have the right to judge him? He right away was about to jump onto the man... with words of course. He wasn't going to get into a fight just because he was called something. Then he sighed and looked at Vlad and then at Ludwig. True the German fellow had his uses and he wasn't really reponsible completely for what happened.' Maybe I overreacted a little...' He thought to himself. He was still going to play some kind of prank on the man for the snot, but there really wasn't a need to be mean about it as he was until now. He sighed and looked to the side. No way in hell was he apologizing though.

So these guys were the La Canela. He noted that the ships were getting closer now... they were actually coming to them? Well that was fine, but why? He had to note that that one was a bigger ship. A lot bigger than the fishing ship they were on. As the ships were pulling to one another, he looked about the dark cold water. He didn't like the water, he in fact damned feared it. On that note a thought passed through his mind, the bigger ship meant more things between him and the water than this one. What he didn't like though was the idea of moving ships. Not that it was even suggested... It was just an thought that came to him.

When the ships finally were side by side and the woman from the bigger ship appeare, the woman apparently really knew Ludwig. Though when Ludwig stated that he joined the circus, Constantin felt a twitch in his eye. Then sighed.' Well... he ain't completely vrong since ve travel vith him as companions...' The firewalker realized. He made a great mental efford to change his thinking of Ludwig a little for the better at least as starters.' He didn't mean that back at the camp... it wasn't intentional... no need to hold killer grudge...' He repeated to his mind and managed to form a slightly better image of the loony fellow in his mind. Beside they did owe him for the opened wall and then the ship idea, though the later did get screwed up a lil since they were too far off shore and apparetnly out of the desired location. It did prove Ludwig's beneficial effect with his presence. And while he was very hard to understand, he wasn't annoying... Just mildly hyperactive. As for the talking that was bound to happen, he knew full well it was Vlad's domain. The firewalker was just going to go with the Bazhooli's decisions.