The
Vanguard, a weapon said to be possessed by the supposed leader of the newly fashioned
Supernovas, had been in the sights of the ambitious woman whom walked right behind the wielder. A uniquely shaped sword, much different from her own infamous weapon, the
First Mate, a cursed cutlass. She, like she had the cutlass, would have the
Vanguard, even if it meant going to battle with the one named Zeal. She could already hear the countless souls of her former crew, now trapped in the stereotypical weapon of pirates.
She turned her attention away from the new object of her obsession, and turned it to nothing in particular, she was communing with those spirits she had trapped so long ago.
A flashback occurred, to that very night, when like a whisper in a howling wind, she stole through her ship and massacred her crew. A fresh coat of red blood painted the deck of the Dead Man's Hand, the ship they had stalked the seas on for so long. That night, she slaughtered her crew in an effort to gain possession of the cursed Cutlass, one of the rarest and most prized weapons of the seas. That same night, she was graced with a new ship, plain and unassuming, with no crew. Her ship and crew, thanks to the
Mystics, had been decimated by the strange burst of energy that had been gathered and released, and caught within the magic of the weapon.
The Pirate Captainess shook her head, resuming her march behind Zeal, whom in the space of an instant, had been joined by the strange bucket headed man. None knew his name, nor where he came from. She shook the image of him away. Did he even really exist?
Accustomed to the voices in her head, she could tell when they went quiet. Something odd was happening within this space between dimensions. Standing to the side, the five foot four woman, hat not included, let the rest of the
Novas pass without incident.
Something is out there, Mistress of the Deep.The Captainess nearly snarled. She hated that title, bestowed upon her by Captain Alex, a pirate that disfigured the face of the legendary Planeswalker, Monk.
Hush, I can sense it. This realm enhances my abilities, and I can sense the rift occurring two miles away. Something is attempting to hitch a ride it seems.Without another word, or noticing that another was gone as well, the Captainess took off. Half an hour later, he brisk run brought her to the site where another rift was opening; the dark night being illuminated and revealing a strange set of translucent tracks. With a kneel, she began examining them, when a strange honking forced her away from the tracks itself. Just as well, as a large, demonic looking hyper train appeared. Flecks of rocks pelted her from the force of the trains arrival, she quickly turned and let her slightly magicked coat take the brunt of the damage, which it mitigated to negligible amounts. Defensive magic worked in a pinch, she didn't like using it too often though.
For once in her life, and definitely so since becoming a
Nova, she was startled. The enormous train was at least three times the width of her own gigantic ship, and an untold amount times the length. It came to a screeching halt, doors upon doors opening.
All aboard, the intermultiversal train, Yggdrasil.Yggdrasil, the world tree? Once more she shook her head, she couldn't think about that now. This was the disturbance she felt, and without further question entered the train through the door closest to her.
Welcome to Yggdrasil, the form of the world tree between dimensions - my way of reaching more than nine world, but an infinite number of universes. The Norse were able to limit my power to their own imagination and needed reach.The Captainess, if she heard, made little indication of such. She was in awe of the size of the ship, but soon her eyes turned to the single figure that lounged sleepily in the seat to the far back.
Careful with that one, Captainess. he just appeared here out of nowhere. Think it has something to do with that magic stench that's all of you. Allarian, is it? Rarely go there, got some visitors from there before though, what were their names. Ah, yes, Tr--,The Captainess rose her hand,
Hush your tongue, unless you intend to swear fealty to me, and my First MateA vicious train horn sounded and she could feel the moving beneath her once more; it was almost like home, years on the ship, riding choppy waves and battling storms had given her an uncannily steadily base, in fact, she felt more on her feet - than she did with a steady base.
She leaned to the right side, the familiar weight of her flintlock pistol, usable for one shot in a pinch, tapping against one of the cushioned seats.
Evil missus, you can smell the death on him too, can't you?She shook her head. The voices in her head going off again, she'd get the answers they desired once he awakened. The most pressing of all being how he stumbled upon this foreign path, forged in Allarian magic.