Sunrise, Sun's Height 26
Dawnstar
Despite the preparations made for the briefing, the Steelhead deck was nonetheless busy with shipmates carrying around barrels, crates, lengths of rope, nails and rivets. A group of carpenters and shipmates were too busy fixing nails on planks and trying to fit in rivets into the brass plates of the ballista affixed upon the planks towards the front part of the deck, by the bowsprit, a precaution taken by the mercenary company in case of any further naval surprises, akin to the ships they had faced after Bthamz. With the ship having practically no list atop the calm waters of the port, the job was not very hard, although the main problem was making sure the operation of the machine did not interfere with the rigging, and constant swearing could be heard from the ever-disagreeing boatswain.
Of course, this was not the mercenaries' problem - it was the sailors'. The mercenaries themselves were too busy getting debriefed on the quarter deck. Ashav had ordered every single one of them to come to the ship fully prepared and finished with whatever they were doing ashore, and now here he was, glancing over each every one of them as a quick 'review', and to gather his thoughts, before the next mission. Ariane, Dumhuvud and Hargjorn stood beside them, while the ship captain, recently ‘promoted’ from first mate to the position thanks to the Thane's assassination, had leaned himself against the railing in front of the boat wheel. He did not seem all that enthused about the fact that all these non-sailors had taken his deck to prepare their briefing.
After visually confirming that every mercenary on the job roster was on deck, Ashav cleared his throat with a cough, and then began to speak.
''While most of you probably haven't had enjoyable experiences with ships recently, unfortunately this next mission of ours is going to be quite a trip. We're headed for Bleakrock Isle, which really doesn't offer much aside from being an excellent location for an outpost, from what I've understood. We have received intelligence that the Island has been overtaken by the Dunmer, who are using it as a base for their naval attacks, possibly where the ships that struck near Bthamz came from. I'm sure most of you would appreciate some vengeance for our losses.''
His gaze drifted over Niernen as he spoke those words - while he hadn't planned to refer especially to the loss of her friend, he found the coincidence convenient. She wasn't the most psychologically stalwart of the group, but it never hurt to fan the flames a just a little.
''Now, we expect their defenses to be strongest near the dock by the south, so the ship will have to make a detour and drop you folks by the northern coast of the island. You will have to make your way to the docks from there by land. Dumhuvud will lead you upon landing,'' he said, pointing at the Nord with a half extended arm.
He coughed and took a deep breath. Veterans of the Reach raid could tell that his voice carried less determination and strength, compared to back then. Every single one of them had been battered somewhat over time. Ashav's face was a bruised mess, and Dumhuvud had gotten a promotion from a dumb fuck to an ugly dumb fuck after his scarring; even Ariane seemed rather unkempt in comparison to her previous appearances, and the sight of the Dwemer staff in her hand, once Keegan's possession, could be said to debase her even further with less scholarly and noble elements such as 'loot'.
''Remember - this mission relies on the element of surprise. Stealth and swiftness is key, and you don't have much time to dawdle around. We've received information that there are about three outposts on the island, not counting the dock, so stick to the plan. Depending on how landing goes, you may have to lead a distraction attack on one of the three to overextend and weaken enemy presence. If you have any questions, I'm sure Dumhuvud will be glad to answer them.''
He threw his hand back dismissively after a moment. ''Dismissed. The ship will leave dock in a few minutes, best prepare your bunks.''
With that, the briefing was over.
Afternoon, Sun's Height 29
Sea of Ghosts
The trip to Bleakrock Isle had thankfully been rather uneventful, save the successful ballista testing and the brief moment of celebration that came after it launched its harpoon without problem. The seas were almost foreboding in their calm, and the skies had been mostly free of clouds. If one could forget the context, one could even enjoy the scenery of the Sea of Ghosts, the waves, the occasional whale sighting, and the horrifyingly human squeaks of curious belugas following the ship. Sadly, no narwhals had been sighted, but at the very least no corpses from Windhelm were mistaken for narwhals either, so for Sadri it wasn’t that bad.
There weren't many opportunities to pass the time on deck, although one crafty sailor had brought a couple of board and card games on board, and mercenaries could possibly try their chances against one other, or against the sailors. Trying to stay away from gambling and its possible misfortunes, Sadri spent most of his time letting Mora numb and feed off by his temple, chewing on a piece of leather to fight his sugar tooth urge, or practicing his tying skills as to not stay idle. The fact that he hadn't forgotten all of those quick knot techniques was somewhat of a relief.
He was not particularly happy with how things were going. On board, he had been staying away from the bottle, afraid of getting caught drunk in another boarding action, but so far this precaution had brought him nothing but longer lapses of awareness, which was most of the time an unfavorable thing for him. Not to mention Niernen's brother - considering his thoughts on loyalty, Sadri was not exactly unafraid of the mer changing his mind in the midst of a standoff and turn his wicked black blade on him instead. Even in a pitched, even battle, he was pretty sure that he did not have much of a chance against a well-trained and capable Redoran noble. The thought of such a possibility was not very elating. Perhaps it would do him well to keep some distance between him and the Redoran; an acquaintance getting backstabbed was bad, but not as bad as getting backstabbed himself.
On a more positive note, he wasn’t the only cripple in the group, not anymore. He hadn’t met the new arrival, in fact he hadn’t even spoken to her in any sense of the word, but he had noticed her arm still. A strange twist of fate, he thought, but it wasn’t like this line of work let you stay unscarred for long, although he wasn’t sure if the severity of the wound indicated to her prowess, or her lack of it. Then again, one could have, and some indeed had, the same doubts about him, and he’d proven them wrong. She could do the same. He decided to shake off the thought in a moment of empathy.
He found himself falling into contemplation again, and contemplation was a horrible thing. He untied the soft shackle in his hand and began work on a monkey's fist, while the ship listed from one side to another in a nauseating rhythm as it made its way atop the waves.
Night, Sun's Height 29
Bleakrock Isle
The calm boredom of the trip would reach an end upon the sighting of the isle by sunset of the third day. Fortunately for the ship, they had not been spotted, although admittedly they were at a distance that was reported to be completely out of range. The ship moved further with cover of foggy weather, with all the possible sources of light extinguished, and anything reflective covered with cloth - the captain did not want to lose his newly gained ship to an amateur mistake. The Steelhead eventually managed to lose sight of the port by moving more towards the port side, and before anyone could realize that they had been there, they had already begun circling around the isle.
While taking the scenic route and going around the island with the aid of a silent, soft gust and careful, silent movement on board, it was agreed to send the raiding party by boat to free the Steelhead of having the responsibility of anchoring and waiting for them, and to keep it safe from the risk of being caught anchored by possible patrols. Sadri, as always, was not very enthusiastic, nor optimistic, and thus had sat close to the stern of the boat as to avoid any projectiles that could greet their beach landing. Against his expectations, however, the night landing went without any fuss, and the boat disappeared again into the night as quickly as it had appeared to drop the party.
''Right, gather up!'' Dumhuvud spoke after the last mercenary landed, and then began his very own briefing. ''As the man said before we set off, we need to be quick and clean. Get it? Quick and clean. These knife-ear shits don't know that we're here, so if any of you pricks slip up, get caught and ruin that for me, I sure as Oblivion won't be lifting a damned hair to help you, and neither will
anyone else. That's an order,'' he growled, eyes fixed on Sevine and Do'Karth towards the end of his sentence. He would not tolerate romantic heroics ruining everything in the midst of such a crucial mission.
''Beleth, tin can, you two lead the way,'' he blurted out in a scathing tone as he affixed his helmet atop his head and gestured at Sadri and Narzul. He didn't want the two to stay out of his sight, and plus, keeping them at the front meant that they were the most likely to take the brunt of any possible misfortune.
Sadri cursed his fate silently as he rolled his eyes over to Narzul and beckoned him along with a gesture of his eyebrows.
Abstract Proxy
Alfhedil
Spoopy Scary
ButtsnBalls
Naril
