Peik

Frigate Fighttime

A collab by @Peik, @Mortarion, and @MacabreFox

‘’SUCK ME ASHEN PRICK, YA BLOODY SNOW FUCKING WANKERS!’’ 

Sadri wasn’t exactly the kindest or nicest fellow, but everyone could agree that he wasn’t always this rude – rather, he wasn’t this brutish (he preferred indirect insults). Unfortunately, as it were, he had been a sailor once, and now, hopping around on his sea legs, jumping around on a ship too busy sinking and caving in on itself, throwing salt bombs around like candy and chopping at anything alien-looking with a sword, he had too many reminders to that portion of his life, which inadvertently brought Sadri to that old state of mind of being a mariner, and many could attest that there was nothing more uncouth than a sailor in battle. 

He let go of another salt bomb, which smashed itself right in front of the feet of a Kamal sailor approaching the Dunmer bruiser amidst all the carnage. Taking advantage of the Akaviri shipmate’s hesitation to move forward, Sadri brought down his sword against the beast’s unarmored head and split it open like a melon.

‘’HA! YA WANT SOME? YA WANT SOME? I’LL GIVE ITA YA!’’ He shouted, looking for the biggest, meanest Akaviri son of a bitch he could see in his vicinity, although the sudden sight of a sailor, one of their own, getting cleaved in half brought him back from his delusion of invincibility. He stopped in place for a moment, glancing behind to see if he had any backup in his sudden, out-of-the-past berserk. 

"Talos be blessed!" Leif roared, a toothy smile slapped across his face. He had witnessed Sadri obliterate a Kamal, an impressive feat. "I didn't know you had that kind of shite in you, old man." He had left the ship behind, giving up manning the ballistas for a chance at some action. His wounds healed to a degree that enabled him to move about without pain, though to be fair, he should have kept to the Kyne. Of course, that was no place for a Nord, missing out on the action when his comrades had all the fun.

Wrapping his hands around the pommel of his longsword, Leif sidled up behind Sadri in a defensive stance. "About a hand, eh?"

''Shoulda seen me three decades ago, culled Pat Teale and his crew with nothing but a cutlass and a stool,'' Sadri mused, as his bad eye pulsed with adrenaline. ''That was a fine day.'' 

It really was not a fine day at all. He had been cut and stabbed about nine times that day - three of the wounds were severe enough to immobilize him for weeks. Oblivion knew it, some of the pain he could still feel when he flexed, but that had become a fact of life for Sadri, whose ragged hide could go toe-to-toe with the most hole-riddled cheeses of Bretony. But it was not a good idea to think of the aftermath during combat - no warrior worth his salt would hesitate from an attack because of the pain. It was a simple matter of efficiency, that was what it was. 

''You know, so long as that fuck's alive,'' Sadri pointed with his spare hand at a bear-like iron brute, who seemed to be the leader given his decorated armor, tendency to shout things and immense size, ''these fucks won't be giving up. And I've a feeling this ship won't be staying here for long. Got ideas before we go under, young lad?'' Sadri asked, eyes darting around for any incoming combatants.

As Sadri and Leif spoke to each other, one of the Kamal warriors -taking advantage of the chaos which engulfed it's vessel- slowly approached both the Nord and the Dunmer with the intention of taking both combatants out of the battle's equation. Unfortunately for this warrior, he had been spotted by an unlikely figure; Tsleeixth, still not fully recovered but feeling well enough to move and fight, had made his way aboard the Kamal frigate and now he made his way towards the warrior that planned to attack his comrades.

At the approach of the kamal warrior headed for them, Leif shifted his stance, "Only thing I got to say about that, is we take out as many as these blasted beasts as possible. They hate fire, but I can't cast anything of that nature. So, balls blazing?"

‘’Balls blazing it is then,’’ Sadri muttered. ‘’I still got two salt bombs, should screw them over. Just got to get through this prick.’’  Then he saw the Argonian. ‘’Or not.’’

Pain flared from the half-healed wounds that the Argonian had received from the Ashlander back in Bthamz's depths, but still he made his way towards the unarmored Kamal. The chaos of the battle, which had shielded the Akaviri invader, also worked in Tsleeixth's favor,  who managed to get close enough to the lumbering snow demon to, try and, drive his sword through it's knee and incapacitate him. Unfortunately the Kamal reacted faster than Tsleeixth anticipated, but the damage was still done as the giant warrior was unable to turn quick enough to face Tsleeixth, who took the chance to plunge his sword into the Kamal's exposed neck.

Dislodging his sword from the Kamal's neck, Tsleeixth made his way towards both Sadri and Leif "If I might suggest." He said as he turned to gaze upon, who he guessed was, the Kamal captain "We could try and throw him overboard. With that armor he is bound to sink to the bottom and drown, and I don't think we could take him head on, at least not without being gravely wounded." Tsleeixth said, his eyes turning to look at both Leif and Sadri.

Leif's eyes widened to the size of saucer plates, never had he expected the Argonian to take down a Kamal single-handedly. At the suggestion of throwing the Kamal leader over-board, he grinned devilishly, "Right then, let's send him to a watery grave, eh?" His eyes darted between his companions, "Distraction tactics might work best. Say lizard, er, Tsleeixth? Can you work magic?"

‘’Well, it’s magic or salts, but the three of us could send that fat fuck down to the Yokudan Hole, one way or another,’’ Sadri muttered as he slowly picked up the pace against the armored captain in the distance. It wasn’t hard for the brute to notice the Dunmer picking up the pace towards him, and as a response, he groaned some ugliness in whatever Akaviri language they spoke, which attracted the attention of a couple of snow beasts, likely the captain’s lackeys, towards Sadri. He thought to himself of Leif’s words, about distraction, and suddenly found a purpose in his rash behavior – maybe he wasn’t just subconsciously trying to get himself killed living the dreams of decades ago, but actually doing something worthwhile.

 "I got something that could send the bastard down to the depths of the Sea of Ghosts." Said Tsleeixth when Sadri mentioned that, between the three of them, they could get rid of the Kamal captain. "But I'll probably need a distraction for it to work." He said as he began making his way towards the Kamal captain alongside Sadri.  

He nodded towards the captain momentarily for Leif and Tsleeixth, and then squeezed the muscles holding his sword to bring his body back into the moment. There were two of them – unarmored, but still, two of them. He figured he would probably get himself maimed or killed trying to pull this off, as was usual from Sadri, who (likely not consciously) always had low expectations of things. The plus side was that no result could disappoint him – conversely, though, he never got too excited. Maybe that was why he was always jaded. It was an interesting thread that he had caught, and he had some thinking to do on the matter, only not right now. He had the part of a sailor from the past to play.

Mantling his past self in a manner of moments, Sadri rushed towards the duo, who raised their cutlasses to cut down this easily approaching foe. Taking advantage of the footwork that this defensive stance gave them, Sadri feinted back into a parry right in front of their swords, which swung at thin air, and raised his iron hand in preparation for sending a salt bomb at the sailor to his left, who instinctively paused and threw his upper body back, and immediately sent the flammable piece of pottery to his right, landing it on the face of his less expectant foe, who, after a pause, began groaning and crying in immeasurable pain. Using the momentary chaos this caused, the Dunmer swung his sword to his left, licking at the cutlass which was meant to plunge into his torso. 

‘’MOVE!’’ Sadri shouted for his companions as he deflected another swing by the mariner, hoping to clear the path somewhat. 

Tsleeixth looked as Sadri rushed towards the duo of Kamal sailors that had answered the call from their captain. Part of him wanted to stay and help the Dunmer fight off the new assailants, but he knew that their true objective was the Kamal captain and that the old Dunmer was acting as a distraction so that he and Leif could reach the Akaviri leader unimpeded. Nodding towards Sadri as he shouted for them to move, Tsleeixth turned towards Leif,  “Come, the faster we get rid of that captain over there,” he said while motioning towards captain Kghergitz, “the faster we can go and lend our aid to Sadri,” he said aid as he began approaching Kghergitz, already focusing his magicka on summoning the frost atronach at his disposal. 

“Right.” He said, noticing the glowing orb of magic appear in the Argonian’s hand. In truth, he felt torn. He wanted to help Sadri take down the other Kamal’s, yet he knew that his fellow comrade spoke truthful words. Like a snake, if one cut off its head, it would writhe out of control before succumbing to death. This was true in the fact that they needed to cut the head off the Kamal leader, so to say. He gripped his longsword in hand, and darted past Tsleeixth, giving him time to finish the conjuration of the atronach. With his longsword raised, Leif charged in with a bellowing war-cry.

“To me you oaf!” As intended, the Kamal captain turned his attention to the puny figure of Leif, for the Kamal towered a good two-to-three feet taller than him. Clenched in both hands, the Kamal captain wielded a pair of dual maces. The size of each mace head were as thick as his torso. If luck evaded him, he would suffer from serious injuries, or even worse, death. On seeing the Nord man rush him, the captain lifted both maces and swung at Leif. He could feel the wind rush over his back as Leif tucked himself into a ball, and rolled between the gaps in his legs. When he emerged behind the Kamal captain, he knew he had seconds to find a way to immobilize him. There! He saw a gap between the greaves. A narrow chance, but one that Leif would take. Thrusting his longsword into the gap, roughly the size of his fist, he felt the longsword dive into flesh and muscle. 

In the strange tongue that the snow demons were known to speak, the captain loosed a deafening roar, his leg buckled under his weight, lowering him to one knee. The Kamal spotted Leif rushing to take out his other leg when he swung at him. Had Leif not been particularly aware of his surroundings in this moment, that mace would have taken his head off. “Talos guide me!” He shouted as he sprang out of immediate danger, where he ended up on the outside of the captain’s uninjured leg. There, he drove his longsword into a similar gap. Agitated that he could not move, much less take out the annoying Nord running between his legs, the captain hefted one mace again, aiming it right for Leif. However, where he had hoped to obliterate him, the mace plunged itself through the metal-covered deck, and, seemingly got stuck, the pained captain unable to pull it through. 

Letting the mace go and raising its other mace for an attack, the captain slumbered towards Leif with its spare hand, only to groan in pain once more, although with all the adrenaline (or whatever its Akaviri equivalent was) getting pumped through its body, this time it was quieter. Sadri, covered in blood and with a fresh cut jagging diagonally down from his forehead, pulled his sword out of the captain’s wrist, and the mace fell onto the ground with a clang. Half panting and half hissing, he spat at the face visor of the creature, whom Sadri could look at face to face now that it was on its knees.

The captain did not seem done yet, though, and immediately swung the arm he had been using as a crutch against Sadri in reaction of this disrespect. Sadri threw himself back to dodge, although nonetheless seemed to nearly get a fistful of the captain’s knuckles, or so the bruising pain in his chest implied.

‘’Play your magic, Lizard!’’ Sadri coughed out in pain, before turning back to see if any more Kamal would show up, and to hide his tooth-gritting, pained expression, not that he would admit.

WIth Leif distracting the Kamal captain, Tsleeixth had enough time to call upon the magicka he required to summon the frost atronach with which he had made a contract so long ago. Calling upon the mental link that he had established with the elemental daedra, he threw the orb of magicka in his hand towards the ground near the Kamal captain and -on it’s spot- the contour of the atronach began to form on the deck of the akaviri frigate.

Soon enough the lumbering form of the frost atronach manifested in full, the deck of the ship groaning in protest at the extra weight imposed on it. Re-focusing once more after the summon -and ignoring Sadri’s words- Tsleeixth pointed towards Kghergitz and gave the atronach a simple command: Charge. The elemental daedra promptly complied and began to move towards the Kamal captain who, having been successfully distracted by both Sadri and Leif, was unprepared for the appearance of the atronach that was now pushing him towards the railing with its full weight. 

Despite the circumstance, the captain tried to stop himself from falling but the wound he had received from Leif towards one of its knees made ensured that it was a moot effort and, that for all its troubles, the only thing that captain Kghergitz managed to accomplish was pulling Tsleeixth’s Atronach with itself to the bottom of the sea. With the threat of the Kamal leader gone, Tsleeixth made his way towards his comrades. “We did it,” he said plainly, exhaustion evident on his voice. It wasn’t an easy thing to summon an atronach, and his wounds, which were now flaring up with pain once more, made it an exhausting task.

‘’Hip hip fuckin’ hurrah,’’ Sadri cursed out, trying to rub some magic into the fresh wound on his face. 

“A job well done!” Leif said through heavy breaths, turning his attention to his fellow comrades. “Never seen a sight quite like that.” He added, clasping Tsleeixth on his shoulder.

‘’Something new every time, I guess,’’ the Dunmer replied.
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