"Bastard! He stole my idea!" Sketti roared, shaking his fist as the scorch mark that was once Morek. Markus wasn't extremely knowledgeable in the subtleties of dwarf culture, but he imagined a non-slayer going out in a blaze of glory in front of one who had taken the death-oath was much like a cat panting and wagging its tail. Either way, his death was what they needed to make it out so Markus wouldn't begrudge the departed dwarf. The Hammer lazily floated out of the maw of the great cavern and into the cloudy weather of the night. Rain still pelted the deck, but the maelstrom had died down to a mere tantrum of a storm. 

Markus looked up and saw the silhouette of the sorceress eclipse the small glimpse of the moon, riding upon her flying steed and raising a staff. Markus felt the hairs on his skin raise, and he felt a heat radiate on him. He had the briefest moment to consider the implications before he leaped, and a pillar of light pierced his position on the ship just the next second. Wood splintered with the flash of lightning, but luckily it didn't cut through the entirety of the caravel. 

Out of the gloom a spasm of dark mystic missiles streaked through the air and hit poor Holdman. As the druchii magic entered his form, he had a single second to give a look of depair before he began to wrack with something inside his body. He convulsed with such violence that when he hit the ground he bounced as he clawed his very eyes out, blood seeping out of every orifice. Brod tried to get a hold of him but Holdman's boot hit him in the chest, sending him sprawling as Holdman let out a final gurgle and died. Had the pirates been a more charitable bunch he might have hurt many more in his death throes. No doubt the sorceress had counted on humans to be less selfish than dark elves, but everyone aboard was too pragmatic or afraid to vainly help Holdman. The man began drowning in his own blood, and Markus did him the favor of severing his neck so he might not have to die from suffocation. 

"Why isn't she attacking the ship?" Sketti asked after firing a pistol at the witch, who was far enough away to nimbly dodge it. 

"They want our ship." Markus explained, drawing his blade, bledwydyr, out of Holdman's corpse. "Likely with some plot to dupe an imperial trading port in some scheme. I can appreciate that, but not with my bloody ship!"