"From the port side bow! Royal Navy!"

The stern's bell resounded through the tumult, and so persisted its ringing in spite of its operator scrambling across the deck. Each rock of the ship swayed it side to side, almost as if flipping her cargo side to side like they were morsels in a frying pan. Yet as each thick raindrop pelted upon their flesh it did almost instantly turn to ice, as howling wind and the cannon fires alike continued their assault. Though the storm's constant, shrieking whine that, almost in synchronization with each freezing raindrop driving a frigid stake through one's ears, an unyielding roar of cannon fire dominated as the prime deafener.

"Main deck! All hands!" Kazik roared out, competing with a constant bark and howl of a storm with quite some rivalry, "Port side mains, get them ready!"

The Czaszkan barked orders quickly, yet performed the same orders in more rapid pace while he pushed and shoved aside some scrambling crewmen whilst he pumped the sponger in and out of cannon after cannon. Tumbling and diving from arm to arm, Kazik soon had sponged each and every one of the 12-pounder guns, and soon began to take up with vivid, ireful eyes as he commanded their continued opening amidst their constant watery assail.

"She wouldnae chase us in this weather!" Charlotte cried out, her left forearm giving their grandest performance to ensure her clear sight, "We need tae veer off!"

"I'm not doin' it!" The helmsman protested, anger and weariness crying straight through the rains, "The storm's too strong! We need to keep fighting through the blizzard, it can't go on forever! It's gonna die down soon!"

"It's bloody April!"

Whilst she continued in her plight to remain upright and well of sight, Charlotte staggered down from the bridge, each step of a plank coated with a solid icy gloss that threatened to remove her balance with the slightest misstep, to which the tempestuous breeze did always ask for her hand in that dance, the likes of which would certainly spell her imminent - yet thoroughly slow and agonizing - demise. The icy ocean waters of the Chotinay Sea spelled the ends of the hardiest of men, for the waters ran so chilling that in mere minutes, entire men would be frozen to their cores inside; their blood ceasing to flow as their veins turned to a crystalline solid, then inevitably shattering with even the slightest twinge. Yet for just that brief moment, Charlotte's expression turned overboard, and any onlooker knew whilst weathering that storm that she wondered if such a fate was better than to be killed by pirate hunters.

"All hands, ready!" All six of them - Kazik among that count - held forth their triggers the same way they clinged to the heavy masses of iron while the ship rocked and swayed. Their target raised and lowered, too, whilst the ship undulated, like some crooked pendulum with a deafening whine. Kazik, determined and pressed, did keep himself raised whilst those sad and jaded eyes locked upon his prey with gaze to rival a harrier.

"FIRE!"

The sonorous resound of the 12-pounder array bayed back with the ship, sending its carriers struggling to keep their footing. Whilst that roar too combined with the bellowing of the winds, an ear-splintering cry shattered the balance of the crew, the payload of their fire barely audible whilst the shot whistled through the storm. Kazik made his best attempt to rise again, his hand covering his left ear whilst his elbow did its finest to shield his eyes from the sleet's ceaseless pelting. A faint, dull glimmer splintered off the raindrops as they collided with their cannonballs, and for a second's fraction, a faint hope had arisen.

Thunderous rolls arose from the silver-masted ship in the crew's sights, and through the incessant argent assail, their foe's midsection howled forth in torrid display. Great, long shards of molten material flew above, even the ignited splinters of what was their rear deck stroked across the storming seas as Hell itself unfurled its artisanship. A thick volley of smoke soon followed, fueled by a raging inferno below, and for that moment, what remained of the crew did unravel a triumphant rejoice.

"We've hit their ammunition hold!" The man announced with so great of joy that the storm itself proved no obstacle to his sanguinity, "She'll be crashing into landfall! She-!"

Yet what Kazik was met with was the floundering of his Captain-in-arms embroiled in unyielding shouting between her and the helmsman. Charlotte's voice did not yet exceed that of the wind's assault, for when Kazik followed the ireful gestures of Charlotte, he turned to face, with his own face turning so pallid and fearful, a much larger threat, just before the bow.

"What are you doing?!? WE'RE HEADED STRAIGHT FOR LAND YE BLOODY EEJIT!"

"It's an iceberg! We need to hit it straight on!"

"You bampot! YOU'LL KILL US ALL!" Charlotte threw her whole self to the helm, wrestling what little she could from their would-be killer to veer the ship left, yet her efforts did little to direct her to safety. Her journey was a collision course; Her fate in fortune's hands.

Kazik stood atop a cannonade, bellowing out as best he could with a throat-splitting screech:

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

Tremors ripped through the ship, a splintering shatter screeching through whilst the recoil of their impact threw those unfortunate souls upon the ship rearwards. There were some verisimilitude of cries, roars, and pleads for either help or mercy, yet the combined efforts of the icy waters below and that rocky coast well devoured what the shattering ship did feed to them. Some debased, ravenous gourmet took slowly what the impact alone did not, for what remained of that fateful privateer's crew clinged aboard some thirds of a ship whilst it made some rapturous journey toward the coast. No longer was it possible to stand upon the deck of this half-ship, for so overtaken was it by manner of undulation and quake that the vibration alone drove splinters into the flesh, where the tempest above, so graciously in turn, dug its freezing rains into the skin of the disparaged.

And for what better end to such suffering than the final capsize? That remnant of a ship, shattered in pieces innumerable, did finally rest upon the frigid shores of Cochise, giving one final bellow as it gave its survivors one final throw.

---

...

......

......

...

..

Weak grunts came before their awakening. The duo slowly rose from their snow-heaped ruin, rising to the storm whilst the rain slowly turned to snow. Such minor mercy seemed much appreciated, for how Charlotte did have her expression changed from anger to annoyance, yet such pittance to the Czaszkan captain made to appeal to how his consternation rose with his posture. A foot before himself, then a slow run, he gave chase - in clear injury whilst he huffed with every move - to what once was of their supply.

"That...we need our supplies." he heaved, stumbling forth towards a steadily impaling wreckage. His teeth gritted whilst he did witness all his efforts be slowly consumed by a heap of jagged stone and storming tidal waves ripping coin and provision alike to oblivion.

---

Key items, interactable objects, and other articles of import are outlined in bright orange. Whilst not everything not outlined in orange cannot have some manner of utility, those in the color are of particular interest.

Create your own key objects using the hex code e99e5b.

---

"Kazik...!" Charlotte cried out, reaching forth toward the determined man. Those fingers clenched around his ice-laden shoulder, a heavy shrug insistent upon Kazik's continued march.

"Kazik!" she ordered once more, at last halting the man in his trek, "Kazik, mate...it's gone."

Moments passed whilst he stared down the wreckage, who remained slowly peering into the pair's view. Charlotte did trot forth through the calf-deep snow, Kazik slowly following behind whilst he cursed beneath his breath:

"Had this tempest not caused enough quagmire already," he swore, "It's robbed me of the pleasure of killing Ambrose myself."

---

Persons of interest are colored bright green. They typically are those with key plot elements tied to them, and will usually dispense quests, information, services, or other useful tidbits.

Create persons of interest with the hex code 5ba259.

---

Kazik lambasted their now-deceased helmsman with a disappointed sigh, firstly that he had brought such ruination to them, and secondly that he had not had - to Kazik's clear displeasure - the capability to survive whilst Kazik enacted just revenge for his idiocy. Yet such affairs, the Czaszkan knew, were no longer for contention, for the moving of other figures meant they were still not yet among the sole survivors of their trepidation. His performer companion, holding her hood tighter about her head whilst she waved back to the ship, called out whilst Kazik inspected his surroundings.

"Aye! Hello?! Can any of you hear me?!" she "introduced", insofar that a disaster on the likes of this could constitute any manner of proper meeting. Charlotte had been acquainted with much of the crew before - and while she prided herself on remembering the names of the many she had met - did make haste in some attempt to the surviving crew.

"I...ah..." Charlotte drew breaths as she tried to stay warm, yet the posturing of her comments made it clear she, too, was equally consternated by their threatening scenario. At odds with her usual silver-tongued demeanor, Charlotte didn't quite know what to say.

"It's good seeing ye all." she nodded, looking over the collecting cast, "I ken we're off to a grand start...but, we can come up with something, I know."

Kazik turned back, shouting forth at the assembly, "Yes! Ahead!", he pointed, tilting his frame back whilst he pointed north.

At the edge of sight, along the blinding coast obfuscated by the arctic tempest, a yellow beaming pulsated periodically. For a second did it wax into full then wane into nothing, returning at regular intervals. Charlotte lowered her head, heavily sighing in relief from the view.

"Oh, thank Gods...it's a lighthouse..."

---

Places and locations are highlighted in blue. They are typically nearby, though they may also be illuminated when done in reference to a location of particular note.

Reference such places with the hex code 5ea3b9.

---

"There must be someone keeping it on." Kazik insisted, waving forth the group, "Come! If that is true, then we-"

The unmistakable bellow of gunfire erupted from the north, just above a ridge which overlooked the craggy coast below. Though behind them lay the faint outlines of several coves, their assailants had the definitive upper ground, only mercifully graced by the intermittent gales which provided concealment through turbulent snowfall. Along the lower shoreline were many of the same creeks and jagged rocks, enormous shards of obsidian spiking out from the volcanic geology. To the bare - and the incautious - the volcanic glass would certainly slit the unwary open with grievous injury. Yet the sole pass down from the ridge - while gentle and shielded from the gale force winds, presented danger all their own; A few score of men - clad in bright blue and white - heaved a mighty battle cry whilst they charged down the pass. Pirate hunters. Royal Navy.

BANG!

BANG!

More gunfire echoed. Kazik's pistol smoked from the fire, his two barrels expended whilst one several meters before him fell, clutching his wound.

His right hand clutched his blade, crouching behind some stone, and roared back at the survivors:

"Pirate hunters!"

They would have to be fighting their way to safety. Charlotte, too, prepared herself, drawing forth her flintlock while she looked about for some manner of vantage point.

Welcome to Cascadia.

---

Despite the thunderous calamity on the frozen-over deck, Everild did what she could to load the cannons. Steadily she ran back and forth, ebony led cannonballs nestled tightly in her arms. The weight of her prosthetic leg caused her to jerk and bob with the ship as it braved through the chaotic ocean waves below. The slick wooden deck certainly didn't help in maintaining her balance.

The deafening howls released by the cannons had made it difficult to fully make out her Captains' orders. However, through the raucous hell of storm and cannon-fire, one call to action rang true in her ears.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

What took place after was a blur of colors lost from Everild's own memory. The details of what truly transpired could only be filled by second-hand accounts.

---

...

...

...

When Everild opened her eyes, she bore witness to a familiar scene. Rocks, sand, dirt, and wood were strewn about in an archaic mess that pinned her down. Everild gasped for breath as she began to pull herself out from under the rubble. She found that, unlike in her younger years, she could manage to pull herself out from the carnage with relative ease. Dragging herself onto the sand, she immediately began tinkering with her iron leg to make sure she could properly walk on it. Over to her left, Kazik rushed to the wreckage that Everild had pulled herself from. Everild shook her head as she looked outward at the supplies and provisions that were torn asunder.

"This certainly is not how I expected our journey to fare," Everild said as she fiddled with her leg. Upon further inspection, the weapon's firing mechanism was significantly damaged and too wet to properly fire a bullet. "Maybe I should have taken that newer model Elias had talked about." Everild chuckled to herself. "Not much I can do about it now. I just have to fix this on my own time." Everild helped herself up and took a look at the surviving crew. Looking up, she saw Charlotte addressing them all and doing her best to inspire hope.

Meanwhile, Everild shook her head in disgust with her own lack of skill in helping those who were injured.

"Does anyone require attention?" she called out. "I may not be a healer, but I am more than willing to-" She was cut off by the sound of gunshots. On quick reflex, Everild drew her pistol and took a shot at the encroaching Royal Navy. One of the sailors took the shot, causing his left leg to twist in directions not meant for the human body. Everild then turned and proceeded to snap up a piece of driftwood from the wreckage as she waited for them to draw closer.

Hourus Malik, he was always talented with nature’s warnings. When a storm was coming, he would know, and he would tell the others on board to ready themselves for rough seas. But he wasn’t a miracle worker, not even he could predict the sleet storm that’s bombarded them, he knew it wasn’t right, but what the winds also failed to tell him was the sudden attack on their vessel. The roaring of cannons splitting his ears wide open as cannon fire barely missed his frame as he turned and yelled to the others about the attack. While Hourus was really strong, he wasn’t all that good with guns. He spent most of his life in the forest after all, he didn’t know how to properly use them. While he was being taught it was a rather slow process, so he mainly stayed away from the cannons and did his best to support the crew, handing them extra ammo, repairing the ship if it got hit, those sorts of things. He cursed out loudly as a particular shot from one of the hunters flew rightpast his head.

”Fucking hell!!! Why the hell are the hunters after us?! What did we do?! We are just going to explore the new world is that really a damned crime?! Lords above! Sink those idiots! We need to-“

It was then that the call to brace was given, spinning around he saw the impending doom of their ship..... A damned iceberg. Mother Nature What has this crew done to deserve your wrath?! With mere moments to go, he took a rope and tried to tie it to the ship then himself, however without the proper time to do so, the ship crashed, and Hourus flew from the impact, slamming into the back of the ship without securing himself. Watching as the ship tore itself apart, he held his arms up to defend himself as splinters of wood flew everywhere, some sharp bits piercing his left arms flesh, and making him cry out in pain. The next thing he knew a large heavy piece of wood broke and flew, his last sight, his crew screaming and crying for help, before the plank slammed against his face and all went black. The ship was destroyed, and downwards the ship went, into the ocean, Mother Nature wins. She always, wins.



The next Hourus woke, he felt pain, he groaned as he pulled himself up, lucky to see he wasn’t missing limbs, but the storm was gone, the pirate hunters were gone, but most of his crew were missing, some laid in the sands of the beach he laid on, hurt, but otherwise alive, though unconscious. However, he say many of them adrift at sea, and he couldn’t leave them like that, and so, taking off his leather armour, and placing it down, he braved the cold waters of the ocean to grab those who were adrift at sea and hauled them back to the safety and luxury of land. Laying them face up so when they awoke, they wouldn’t be face first in the sand, he made this trip many, many, many times, trying to save the lives of the others he could. During those trips he found his axe and grabbing hook, at least he wasn’t defenceless now. But all those trips used a lot of his energy, and the cold water bit at his skin each time. Eventually, he had to stop, otherwise his body would shut down on him. Forcing him to sit on a rock and warm back up. He was one of the first few to awaken, so when he saw others waking up he let out a heavy sigh of relief and nearly hugged each and every one of them to death once he knew they were alright and kicking.”Gods above..... I’m so glad your all alright.... I was scared you all were done for.... Mother Nature is truely merciful for letting you all survive that grand ordeal.” With that all said and done, he was happy to see his friends and allies alive and kicking, he did what he could to salvage what they could, with his great strength they hauled out large pieces of wood to use, but nothing could ever be easy could it? As Charlotte was addressing them all, the sounds of gunfire ran in their direction and he turned to face it head on, he grabbed his axe and placed on his leather armour. An did once on of the foolish Pirate hunters rushed up to him he grabbed their arm that held a blade and head butted them, before driving his axe into their skull with his dominant arm, cleaving it I noticed two as he yelled out in anger and rage. ”We just got done getting back up you bastards!!! Can we have like five fucking minutes without you pestering us again?!” He then took immediate cover as he didn’t have the range to fight the gunman they had. He needed help to get in closer. ”Hey can I get some help? I can’t get close with them shooting at me like this!!”

---

A low groan escaped Diego as he slowly began to come to his senses, a chilling wind biting at his exposed skin. Where was he? The stinging cold was familiar to him, yet the slightly dull throb in the back of his head was new and only clouded his already fogged up mind. As he struggled to gain his wits he began to hear a familiar muffled voice call out to him. Who was that? They sounded a bit worried for some reason. Hesitantly he began to attempt to open his eyes, weakly blinking only to see a blurry figure looking down at him while gently shaking him. After a few more blinks he quickly recognized the animal like ears and smirked slightly. It all soon began to come back to him, the ship, the Royal Navy, the storm. After that it got fuzzy. Another groan escaped Diego before he rested his palm against his forehead. With a few more blinks his vision returned to him and he looked up to his small companion, Rose. She looked down at him with worried red eyes, her furry fox like ears folded back from worry before perking up to see Diego finally regain his consciousness, Diego giving a small smile in amusement to see her tail flick back and forth behind her. With a grunt he pushed himself up, Rose quickly helping him until he was sitting up.

“Diego! Finally you’re awake, I was starting to get worried,” she said with a sigh before letting a small smile rest on her face. Her ears folded back as a small gust of wind sent a chill up her spine, quietly regretting not having enough time to put something warmer on. With a shutter she winced before looking over her shoulder to see the last member of their little group, Enzio who was digging through the pockets of a deceased sailor. She frowned a bit, seeing Enzio’s nasty habit in action again before shaking her head. “Enzio, he’s-” she was cut off with an unconcerned wave from Enzio while he continued to search for anything valuable.

“I know, I know he’s awake. I told you he was fine, he always is. Old man just needed a nap,” he said before a small smirk came to his face as he pulled out a small jingling purse from the sailors pockets. With a small chuckle he looked to the two before rising to his full height with his hand resting atop his sheathed sword. “You feeling okay, or do you need a few more minutes?” Diego scoffed with an amused smirk before pushing himself up, Rose by his side silently asking him to rest for another moment. Diego gave her a small smile and patted her shoulder to let her know he was alright. He looked back to Enzio and glanced down to the deceased Sailor before looking back to him with a disapproving look. “What?” he asked in confusion before looking back to the corpse and rolling his eyes. “Oh don’t start now, this poor sap don’t need it any more,” his defense in the deed didn’t seem to work as Diego crossed his arms and nodded towards the body. After a moment Enzio looked to the purse before groaning and tossing it back onto the dead sailors chest.

Diego nodded in approval before looking down to Rose who was carrying his musket and the rest of his equipment. “Thank you Rose,” he said before taking his gear and patting her head, earning a small wag of her tail before looking to Enzio. “What’s the damage so far? Are there any other survivors?” he asked before checking his rifle. Enzio nodded and jabbed a thumb behind him.

“Well ships been wrecked since whoever was at the wheel can’t steer worth a damn. As for the others there are some people still alive around the wreckage,” Diego leaned to look over him to see a decent chunk of the ship behind him. Diego scanned their surroundings with a small frown as the beach they crashed on didn’t look like a nice one, the rocky surface looking unpleasant to walk along and the large spires of obsidian peeking over from the crashed ship. A small sigh escaped him before he looked back to Rose, noticing her bare feet exposed to the snowy ground.

“Where are your boots?” he questioned with a bit of concern. Rose looked down and her ears folded back again before looking to the sea. Diego followed her gaze and pieced it together before shaking his head. “Nevermind, lets just meet up with whoever is left,” he suggested before checking his gear one final time. The three began to make their way towards the other survivors, Rose taking the lead as she quickly hopped from rock to rock with ease. Diego and Enzio on the other hand gradually made their way after her, Enzio muttering in slight annoyance as he silently wished they crashed on a nice warm sandy beach. Soon the two caught up to Rose as she was crouched atop some debris and looked to see Charlotte addressing their remaining crew. Enzio scoffed as she tried to raise the moral before muttering something about how they should have picked a better route, but he was quickly silenced by a small tab on the side of the head from Diego’s back hand who kept his eyes on Charlotte.

The three of them silently stood together, scanning the are to see what they could do to help, but Rose paused before sniffing the air, her right ear twitching slightly. Meanwhile the other two looked around to see a few familiar faces, Diego spotting Everlid picking herself up and Enzio seeing Hourus going around giving people hugs before feeling a shiver travel up his spine as he hoped he didn’t come his way to offer him a hug. Before either of them could interact with the rest of their crew the familiar sound of gunfire filled the air and instantly the three ducked into cover, Rose barely dodging a bullet as it flew over her head. Diego slid down behind a rock before cocking the hammer on his musket, Enzio rolled behind a bit of debris with his sword drawn and finally Rose fell between the two, lowering herself close to the ground to keep her out of their attackers sights. “Hey Pup, why didn’t you call out these bastards!? That nose not working or something!?” Enzio shouted before another round crashed against his cover.

Rose narrowed his eyes towards Enzio and growled in annoyance, her sharp canines showing. “The air is filled with smoke and salt water, don’t start with me!” she barked back before ducking her head down as another shot went over her.

“Enough! We have work to do!” he shouted before looking to Rose and giving her a nod. She nodded and pulled out a smoke bomb before looking between the two. “Remember you two, no stunts and keep moving,” he ordered, looking at both of them with a stern gaze before they answered with a firm nod. After a few more shots flying over Rose tossed the smoke bomb over their cover and the three sprang into action, the three of them leaping over their cover and spreading out. Diego quickly moved from cover to cover with his head down. Rose pounced from rock to rock on all fours, her moves quick and efficient as she gradually made her way towards their attackers. Finally Enzio charged forward with his sword and curved dagger drawn, not following his companions lead in keeping it safe and instead focusing on getting up close and personal with his opponents.

Rose was the first to meet the enemy, two pirate hunters who both attempted to blast her away with their rifles, but to their surprise she rolled out of the way and lunged towards the two while drawing her dagger. She reached the first pirate hunter as he yelped in surprise and slashed her dagger along his chest and earning her a howl from her target before he fell back with a small spray of blood. Her ears twitched as she heard a blade leave it’s sheath and snapped her head back to the other pirate hunter as he drew his blade and lunged towards her with a roar. Quickly she sidestepped his attack, her blade scraping along his and sending a few sparks flying. She then jumped behind him, leaped onto his back and in quick work slit his throat before jumping off and landing atop a rock. The man fell dead to the ground and with heavy breathing Rose wiped a bit of blood from her cheek before hearing the click of a freshly loaded musket. Without looking to the source she dived forward and rolled behind another rock, barely managing to dodge the bullet.

“Damn I missed! Get that thing!” a voice barked and earning a snarl of frustration from Rose. She heard the rapid set of footsteps head her way and readied herself to attack. Though as a young pirate hunter rounded the cover with his rifle at the ready to fire a shot filled the air and he fell back with a yelp. Rose looked to the fallen hunter before looking back to see Diego with his musket raised and smoking. He gave her a nod and fell back into cover to reload and avoid a few more rounds. Rose smiled in relief before hearing a familiar voice shouting out.

“Stop shooting at me and just let me cut you!” Enzio shouted from a distance. Rose rolled her eyes and peeked out of her cover to see him running away from the enemy as he tried his best to avoid their bullets. Enzio cursed and shouted slurs towards the enemy as he ran away, a few yelps as some rounds pinged and flew over him. Soon he finally dived over some cover and grunted in annoyance as he rolled onto his back. “Son of a bitch! I hate guns!” he declared with heavy breathing before looking up to see Hourus. “Hey there,” he greeted before letting out a small groan and crawled to a rock beside him. “Hey Pup! Can you be useful for once and throw another smoke bomb!?” he shouted out.

“You're to far so bite me!” she shouted back and earned a groan from Enzio as he rested his sword and dagger on his lap before resting his head against the rock. He wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing for now so all he could do now was not get shot while he silently wished he had a drink for this long day.

---

The blistering, whipping winds of the storm were a reminder of Weiland's first trip over to the new world, ironic considering the new life he had now found as a pirate. The barking order of preparing the port side guns brought others to action, though Weiland was far too forward to readily assist with the cannon fire on the Royal Navy vessel, he did bring his musket to bear, moving with the shifting and stormy seas to get off a relatively decent shot, helping buy his crew time to get the volley off. He was busy reloading his weapon, not simply standing idle as the volley found its mark and crippled the opposing vessel. Having finished loading his weapon, the cry to brace for impact got a sideways glance towards what they were about to collide with, a bloody iceberg of all things. Maybe he should have stuck to keeping his feet planted firmly on solid ground, after all, and he grabbed the most solid piece of ship he could get his hands on, though the details from here on out would be a blur, at best.

---

Coming to later, Weiland stifled a groan in case there was trouble around the area he would find himself waking up. Rather than outright jump up to his feet, he was slow to pick himself up, checking himself over for injuries that weren't readily apparent after only just waking up. Nothing broken or lacerated, he'd gotten lucky. Or blessed, as some of his comrades from the tribe would put it, though he would start moving about what was left in the immediate area, the cloaked and hooded figure offering a brief nod to the captain as she spoke on the rough start. With little time to breath, more Pirate Hunters engaged the battered and weary survivors of the pirate crew. The one leader of their surviving band took a nasty shot from his pistol, while other members of the crew went to ground and returned fire wherever possible. Lifting his musket and firing a shot of his own, starting to reload when the one man yelled out about getting some help getting closer, and the silver eyed tribesman ducked forward, moving low and fast and appearing by his side.

"Stay close, watch where I step, and keep up, we're taking the low path to give you a way to hit their flank from 'impossible' terrain. Lack of caution will leave you wishing you'd sat here being shot at, that black glass will ruin your feet if you don't do this right. Ms. Faulkner! We are taking to the flank, we shall return." Weiland would have to make sure that the Brigand, since the man's name eluded him, was keeping up. While a direct line of sight was not going to be as readily apparent from the lower ground, they were out of sight and, at a casual glance, unable to interact with the fighting. A close enough sweep, however, revealed one shallow cove like structure that would lead behind the position of the hunter's current position. Weiland would start making his way up there, and should the brigand have chosen to follow, he would make sure the man was aware of how to ascend as well. Near the top he would shift sideways, almost wedging himself into a crook to give the brigand space to pass him and strike first, as the man's lack of ranged firepower was noted before.

Bracing himself at the top afterwords, Weiland would observe the backs of the hunter bastards and a rare grin crossed the silver eyed man's face. He would, after allowing the brigand time to act if need be, open fire from the position, ready to either drop back down or swap to his pistols instead of reloading, the cross fire position would likely catch them off guard since both advancing and ascending up to this position was likely not something they would have concerned themselves with. His current plan was to cover the Brigand, barring that though, the crossfire position would leave the hunter's backs terribly exposed regardless who they chose to go after, be it the flanking attack or the original targets at all. This was where things got interesting, approaching problems with non standard solutions, this was something he could get behind, as it were.

---

This was not how her triumphant return was supposed to go. When The Woman With Two Names set out for the Old World with a ticking biological clock hanging over her head like an ax and the intent to return with an army, she hadn't expected her return home to be marred by violent storms. Long stretches of boredom? Seemed likely. Battles against rival seadogs? Sure. Yellow fever and scurvy? With her near-comically weak constitution it would almost be a miracle if she didn't catch something. But storms had somehow slipped her mind. it was stupid of her, of course. Unlike her crew-mates Kiááyo had grown up taking cover from shards of hail and freezing gales churned into a frenzy of whips so cold they burned by some hateful god or spirit of ice. She should have been expecting this.

Maybe it was because she had been so focused on what was new she had neglected to think of her past. There was likely a message in that, a moral to take to heart and keep hold of for the remainder of her likely short life. But the call for all hands left no time or room for such heady self-reflection. The Cotsch had swaddled herself in the heavy bearskin ostensibly earmarked for special occasions but serving as little more than a way to preserve body heat and ran out from the cramped and musty antechamber to the underworld that was the below decks and out into a violent blizzard that coated ship in snow and shrouded the sea in white. It was cold enough freeze the blood in her body, gales strong enough to blast her from the ship into the bottomless depths of the ocean. It was so inhospitable that Nature itself could easily kill a person in minutes and hide their frozen corpse under a snowdrift to be found later by some hungry animal.

It was home.

"Welcome to the fucking New World! she shouted over the ice storm at Charlotte in response to to her indignation. "This happens here." The native-born woman wore a sardonic smile as she spoke, laying her accent on just a bit thicker than it was naturally to play up her persona as the rough tribeswoman. The thunder of cannons jostled her bones, shaking back into the mind of the sickly little girl who watched her father practice with his guns. How wondrous they seemed! Barrels of cast iron loaded powder and shot, capable of shredding ships and tearing men in half. They were the future, her people could not cling on to their swords and bows and expect to last against the invaders.

The enemy's store of powder went up in a violent maelstrom of flaming wood and smoking steel, a glorious celebration of the power of modern weaponry. The Royal crewmen were now nothing more than sacrificial lambs slaughtered at the alter of Ca'tek, her people's god of war and bloodshed. A good victory, but a short lived one.A dry chuckle had barely escaped her lips when the ship was reduced to timbers by a unyielding iceberg, an impenetrable wall placed there by Yiama, mother of the sea. Clearly she was upset with them for one reason or another. Maybe Kiááyo was being punished for abandoning her homeland and people, and her crew were simply caught in the crossfire.

The reason didn't matter to her, what mattered was getting herself back below deck before she could be thrown from the deck. The markswoman managed to throw her body down the stairs in the darkness, managing to find her bunk in the dim light of the lanterns and holding on for dear life. The timbers shrieked in agony and cracked, icy water spilling into the hold to douse the sources of light. Kiááyo was left in pitch blackness, all noise drowned out by the roar of the storm and the sound of shattering wood as she fought to keep from from being torn from her post and slammed into a wall. Fate had a cruel sense of humor it seemed. Her final moments weren't going to be spent cough up blackened blood as her body succumbed to the poison within, she would wondering whether she would freeze or drown first. The violent motions of the crumbling ship spun her thoughts into a sickening blur, Kiááyo resigning herself to her fate. Her mission had failed before it had even really begun.

So it was a pleasant surprise when she came to and realized that she wasn't dead yet. The half-breed was splayed out on a piece of flooring that had been torn loose in front of her bunk, gripping the now freed bed so tightly her knuckles were white. Considering she couldn't feel any head injury (her body was a different story, the bruises left from being slammed around the sinking ship would hurt for a while.)she hadn’t been knocked unconscious, just blacked out sometime during the madness and terror of being caught on a sinking ship. "Back to work then." she muttered, checking her weapons before standing up and taking stock of her surroundings. The ship was sinking, their food and wealth with it. They had lost crew and their means of transportation and were currently under attack. But at least her bags weren't lost sticking out of a snowdrift a hundred yards or so away, so they still had her Medicines. Her weapons were all on her and she had targets in range.

Things were better than they had any right to be.

One of her fellow survivors was calling for help, Kiááyo sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her through the snow, slipping and sliding all the way. She managed to fumble her way into cover next to Horus and Enzio, checking priming her musket and propping it on the rock. "And this is why we use guns" she explained in greeting, lining up her shot as enemy bullets ricocheted off the snow covered boulder and buried themselves in the piles around them. The trained shooter took a breath and held it, barrel hovering in front of a pirate hunter on the ridge. A pull of the trigger and her musket spat a cloud of smoke and ball of lead, the bullet tearing through skin bone and organs alike in it's path through the hunter's ribs and through his lungs. One down and more to go.

She didn't bother reloading, letting the long arm rest on the rocks and drawing her twin turnover pistols as began to line up new targets. Eight more bullets, eight more kills.

Cold. Dark. Damp. Silvio blinked. He pushed up-and a fresh rush of cold air greeted him. "Pah! This snow tastes awful!" He wiped the snow off his face with one hand as he steadied himself with the other. "One, two, and-three!". A quick hop up.

Wind and snow combined to blur his vision as the skies rumbled overhead. Silvio put both hands on his hips as he looked around, confusion clear in his raised brows. A wave lapping the shore caught his eye-and then he saw it. The wreckage. What remained of their ship drifted further into the sea, their cargo along with it. "Shit! My scales! My kits!". Spurred into action, Silvio ran towards the shoreline as fast as the snow would allow. His pack clung to a jagged shard by the strap, as if the obsidian shard decided to wear it.

"That...could be so much worse." Lifting his pack off the spire, he opened it immediately. All his gear-his scales, his kit, his lustergrapher-all there, all intact. A sigh of relief and a half-smile. "Lady Luck loves me-as she should. Who could resist? Now...where is everyone?"

Brushing the snow out of his hair, then off his clothes; he started forward-then he froze as shouting rang out through the din. I'm not the only one! Thank Suvid! He picked up the pace-then hit the deck as gunshots rang out! "Pirate hunters!"

Silvio half-crawled, half-scrambled to the first piece of cover he saw, a large stone. He peeked over the stone and ducked down almost immediately. Heart pounding, lungs burning; he looked around. Some faces he recognized immediately. Kazik, for one, clutching a smoking gun.

"Alright, we're being shot at. Not the first time for me, but definitely the closest. Definitely the closest. And I can't cower behind this rock forever-I think. What to do, what to do..."

As he continued to whisper to himself, he felt a metaphorical lantern turn on. That's it! Confuse them! Worked in Mullin, and it'll work here! Or my name isn't Silvio Corsetti!

He peeked once more over the stone. More shots. Some shouting. Silence. Whether out of bravado, fear or both; he whispered to himself, "Lady Luck, don't leave me now." One. Time slowed down. He brushed the snow out of his face once more. Two. He put on his best panicked expression. Quick breath. Three.

Silvio Corsetti dashed out from behind the stone, hands up, shouting at the top of his lungs "My saviors! Don't shoot, don't shoot! I'm unarmed!" He ran for the nearest living Royal Navy sailor and ducked behind them. "Oh, thank you, thank you! Those awful pirates kidnapped me and threatened to kill me! You'll help me, won't you?"

Hourus stayed down in cover, as he had no weapons for long range fighting. However he was shocked when many others joined him behind cover. Enzo and Kiaayo. He recognized them, though never really go to know them too well during their voyage. He merely waved to them once Weiland showed up and they help give him cover fire. Upon hearing Weiland’s suggestion he agreed. Getting behind enemy lines would greatly confuse them and with it can be a great boon to their surviving crew. He turned to the other two behind the rock and spoke to them about his new formed plan. “Alright! Weiland and I will sneak around back and attack from behind to confuse their ranks! Keep these guys occupied until we are in position and when we strike we wipe them all out. Stay safe.”

With that said and done Hourus followed Weiland behind enemy lines, making sure to stay out of sight as he held his axe tightly in hi sight dominant right hand, making their way through the rough terrain, however the rough uneven terrain was no problem for Hourus due to his time living in the wild, having to deal with such problems daily back home. Once they were in position and Weiland let him pass through, he took cover and took a moment for himself. He took a few deep breaths, he was about to charge in headfirst into an entire platoon of forces trying to harm his crew. He just needed a moment to mentally prepare himself. Once he was ready, he leapt over his cover and rushed forward into the enemy forces, which luckily didn’t notice his advance until it was too late, driving his axe into the back of one of their skulls. Once this happened their force should we’re alerted to his pressence, and he began tearing through their ranks. Causing mass chaos within their squad as he hacked, slashed, and bashed his way through their forces. But that’s didn’t mean he’d escape without wounds, some of the lucky bastards managed to get good swings in with their swords and one even got a shot off into his left arm. At one point after disarming one of the hunters, the hunter tried to punch him in the chest, only for his fist to meet with strengthend abs and muscle, Hourus just looked at him, shook his head, realed back his free fist and with a resounding WHACK, sent the hunter a good few feet back with how hard he hit him. He hoped this large full out brawl he was causing was a good enough distraction for other side Tom get in and start tearing these hunters apartment from where they were.

As he looked up, Kazik drew forth an expression of clear surprise at which his new and oldfound associates dispatched their assailants. Whilst his pistol did click as he chambered the second barrel, before him had fallen nearly a dozen foes only by the skillful hands of the crew. Just has one of the pair had pointed one of their sidearms, it seemed, in any variety of violent action did they just as soon meet their fateful demise. In the mist of a heavy, howling sleet, both Kazik and Charlotte heaving in relief that those who remained among that damned crew had, at least, the talent to keep themselves alive.

From each shot of a musket, the clouds of smoke so famous to their use vaporized into the stormy winds, the omnipresent push of each passing gale enveloping the crash scene into a hazy cloud. What was created was the constant, acrid waft of gunpowder rising against the nose as each round of wind blew, almost like tiny shards of glass jabbed themselves into the nostrils with every inhale. Charlotte, with little to protect herself, rose her elbow to her face as she looked about from her hunched-over position of cover.

Both of them exchanged looks in clear surprise; They agreed even through a thick haze of hail and ice that they had done well in selecting a capable crew, if this random rabble could do so much as so readily assail an entourage of pirates to retreat, surely, any remnant could only pose so much resistance. Just as soon, they were forced to avert their eyes, both ceding to an oppressive gale.

Still, Charlotte continued a short march to her right amidst the chaos, sure to keep her posture low while a continuous roar of wind and fire rained around. As the wind blew stronger, the howl alone blew in such tumultuous roar that it threatened their very perceptions, eyes, ears, and all, until all that consumed them was a never ending blur on the cusp of detection. Her head dived down as another gale pressed over, digging her face well into the corner of her arm while the brunette woman desperately sought some relief.

“Bloody tempest…” One could tell the woman screamed aloud from exhaustion, but the omnipresent screech of the storm hushed her all too well.

Kazik fared little better in the face of the winter storm. Somewhere in the blur could he be heard, fighting, a clanging of steel against flesh and iron parading itself amidst the omnipresent screech which pervaded the Cotsch coast. He darted about hectically, searching in some attempt for assisting his friends against the already mostly-fallen group which had assailed them just moments prior, yet as he drew sword or pistol to find one foe, only heard their silencing, and each hush via cloud of gun smoke only loosened his grip upon his instruments, almost a bit...disheartened at the display.

That relieving looseness provided that little extra comfort - for what could be provided amidst so fortuitous a tempest - as the young captain did shout over the coming storm in effort to regroup that band.

“To the centre!” he shouted, waving his sword as he tried to draw attention, “Push them back up to the-!”

He turned. Just a glance was what it took to interrupt him, not even paying mind to how he inhaled snow and ice with his agape expression. That little unfocused blur, of rich blue and white color, that was just enough to make him stop.

"Rrraaggh!”

Kazik was well off his feet, feeling himself being driven downwards and wrapped around like a fishhook dragging him deep into the snow below. He twitched and turned, struggling to free himself, yet the assailant confined him too well, maintaining his hold as Kazik desperately struggled to free himself! A pounding sensation came just moments later, like some spike bludgeoning into Kazik’s head while the pair did burrow themselves into knee-deep snow. A wave of hardness came across his entire body, thrashing him and cracking him with a pained grunt.

In a tangle of arms, the captain struggled away from his captor’s confines, finally setting loose his arms as he made his best defense. Great weight sat atop him, the murderous eyes of a pirate hunter atop him adorned with an acrimonious snarl. Kazik rose his hands before him, posing to parry whatever came down upon him.

The hunter’s arm raised. The opposite dove in. Kazik attempted to breathe, and found his breath being seized. Like some flailing sea creature, the myrmidon floundered for air, both hands gripping the ironclad vice of the assailant atop him. Jolting and seizing, Kazik’s wrestling drove the arm left and right, yet his choker atop him remained steady, like he tried to instead wrest a pole driving well into his throat. Through every wrest of his jolting body, the choke hold would not cede without a struggle, and for every struggle came another whiplash of air, freezing into mist as Kazik grunted. It grew numb, and harsh...like every choking gasp of air left him one bit closer to conceding for the final time...

Another push! Another jab! Another snap!

And with one final throw, a sonorous smack! broke through even the howl of the storm above. His assailant recoiled back and up, retracting his hold to immediately lift a pained cry, holding his nose and eye however he might support them. Kazik gave him no respite; Seizing the initiative, then with his own two hands did he just as well return the favor only moments old, springing forth with all his weight as the myrmidon crashed atop his assailant! Now, it was his own hands placed in firm chokehold of his foe, seizing whatever composure remained from his reversed adversary.

The pirate hunter made few attempts to strike back, ceasing after the first unsuccessful smack to Kazik's head, which he minded perhaps as much as if the storm had passed; He even seemed to grin as he felt the blow, without a flinch wordlessly daring him to do his worst. That invitation registered henceforth as his cue to take on a defensive position, shielding his eyes through splayed hands. He'd screech atop his lungs, crying for his comrade's assistance as he desperately struggled. His cries were cut short, a heavy thud pounding his throat, sputtering out a violent hack to complement. As the myrmidon established his dominance, firmly pinning the stunned hunter to the ground by his neck, his spare hand spiked down, drawing forth his blade as he nearly cut his opponent along the lengthy draw. His arm was seized, his foe jamming his reach with his one good hand, a wild desperation in his blood-soaked eye! He grunted, drawing forth breath and slammed his elbow upon the side of the hunter's head, a great, sickening crack! signifying the hunter's repeated disablement!

Forth, Kazik reached, and pressed his inner fingers against the side of his blade...

...and with a swift, heavy shink!...eviscerated the wind from his adversary's neck.

---

“The flags! Fall back! Fall back!”

From atop the overhang just above, what remained of the over-watching force waved backwards into the forest behind, signalling the group’s retreat whilst they made a mad dash for cover. The men at hand made odd glares back at Enzo, acknowledging the Fioretzan with their bewildered, consternated expressions, and finally once last slight wave as the men bolted back into the treeline even suggested for a mere moment for him to follow. Such, inevitably, invited him to be lost in the confusion of his supposed adversaries, of course, but it could give a great way to gain an upper hand, if Enzo could find a good moment to launch an ambush...

The most apt posse had done more than their fair share of fighting off their enemy, their works on clear display as the hunters made their retreat; A dozen well dead, the weeping blood seeping into the ground as if they were the Springtime melting the snow. Not even a steady onslaught of winter could dare cover the scene, instead only robbing the bodies of whatever warmth they still carried, as even from their dead bodies, the steady rivers of blood from which they ran crystallized in the wind, freezing into a thick, pungent, frozen sheet. Scarcely four remained, all making their full retreat at whatever pace a full sprint could afford in what was soon becoming knee-deep snow.

Kazik made his voiciperal grunt halt the storm, so great was his exertion, rising on his own two feet as he wiped off the contents of his dead foe off him. Even the body-heat warmth of the blood nearly burned onto his skin, so cold were the prevalent winds, and before such a prize would leave a more lasting impression did Kazik wipe it with his thick sleeve. Charlotte marched to his aid, still shuddering as every howl whipped aside what cloth bolts she had on. She smirked at him, nudging toward the cliff's overhang.

"They've been malkied enough tae run, Kazie!" She happily reported, stretching her arms out in celebration. Kazik, yet, still marched on, a fierce-set determination awash over him.

"...K-Kazie, mate, where ye' oaf te'?" Her smile dropped as she began picking up pace to walk at Kazik's march. He drew his sword once again, straight-faced as if he carried some manner of indignancy.

“Loose ends are a luxury we cannot afford, Charlotte. Not now.”

“Ach, Kazie! Look at ‘em! They cannae get far in this weather!” she refuted, pointing toward a group of limping figures, slowly disappearing into the haze of the storm.

“If they make a retreat now,” Kazik responded, “they know where they’re headed. Their hideout must be nearby!”

Charlotte raised her hand to object, and with a biting roar from the tempest, soon found herself objecting to the buffeting winds that tormented them.

"Oi, ye' daftie, och awa' an' dinnae talk pish!" She yelled back at him. She seized his arm quickly, almost forcing him to cede his push onwards, and with the turn of his head, Kazik continued to go forth, almost dragging the woman along with him.

"They're weak, Charlotte! We can finish it! And when we're done, we can take what they have for ourselves!"

"Ach, Kazie! Look at us, we cannae go'on an' go take a damn pirate hunter's cove when we're oot here half-starved to death!" Charlotte dug her heels into the snow, Kazik grunting as he tried moving further.

"We need the supplies, Charlotte! We have nothing, and only the Gods know how long this damnable storm is going to last!"

It was clear that the longer these two argued, the chance either of their plans would succeed plummeted by the second. Even so, as if to remind them of the structure at which they so thoroughly promised aboard their ship, intervention would help well enough to move affairs along. Of course, insofar that none believed that direct action would help make up their minds...

Hourus panted heavily, with the enemy forces retreating he could afford a moment of repose. But he felt the shiver run up his spine as he felt the harsh breeze running through his hair and battering his body. This was bad. This was harsh weather, they’d never survive a night out in this tempest. That said he was also wounded, he had several cuts and gunshot wounds across his body as he was the one in the middle of the entire battle. He wouldn’t have anyone else do the job as he knew he could service it, but he needed some medical attention. He turned his head to the sky and felt Nature’s chilling wrath, the hail and snow combined chilled him to the bone in his armour, his body covered in blood which made him disgusted with himself. “Natures cold whisper..... She wishes to bury us in her ice cold ash....” He knew this storm wouldn’t die down anytime soon and so, with his axe in hand he headed over to the captain. “Captains, I couldn’t help but hear your bickering. We’re in a BAD spot, from what I can tell of the wheather it won’t die down for at least several hours! We need shelter, and we need it now! If we stop moving we die! What we do is up to you two but I suggest shelter over war....... But if your so keen on fighting them still...... I can track them, but only so long as the cold snow doesn’t blanket their tracks, we need a decision, and now.”

Hourus knew that chasing the bandits was a bad idea, but if it came down to it, he could do his best to guide the group after them and find a way to keep warm, although he didn’t like the idea of the risks that we’re involved with it. He only hoped that they would choose to find shelter first, he had all he needed from his gear. He could carry other things if others needed him too.