He thought for sure that the women would use her watery tentacle and end him right there, yet she did not. Her words gave him some insight as to why though, she wanted him to beg? That train of thought was actually something The First Mate understood all too well. There many pirates in the seas that wanted the satisfaction of breaking a man down, having him beg before killing him. The First Mate always attributed it to a bit of an ego, but the women before him he wasn’t sure.
“Beg? Now yer startin’ to come ‘round!” He said with a laugh, though it sounded more like a croak. His eyes widened as that tentacle came swinging towards him again. On his knees there wasn’t much he could do. What he did was draw his left hand back, the one holding his main-gauche and sling it at the women just before he was toppled back by the tendril. It lacked power he knew, she was toying with him.
“Finally, four play!” He croaked on his back, groaning and holding his chest with his left hand, while his right still held his saber out to his side. He looked up into the sky. Yea, he was going to die of that he was sure.
The weapon he had thrown surely hadn’t been meant for it and it was a heavier weapon to boot, used for blocking blades. There was a very, very small chance it could sink in like some throwing dagger and be lethal, they weren’t very far apart. What was more likely to happen, he realized, is that if it hit her it could leave a bruise or small cut and likely simply piss her off. He looked on the bright-side though, he would be defiant till the very end.
He picked his head up to look and see if anything came of throwin it and if the watery tendril was still there to continue giving him his whooping.
“Beg? Now yer startin’ to come ‘round!” He said with a laugh, though it sounded more like a croak. His eyes widened as that tentacle came swinging towards him again. On his knees there wasn’t much he could do. What he did was draw his left hand back, the one holding his main-gauche and sling it at the women just before he was toppled back by the tendril. It lacked power he knew, she was toying with him.
“Finally, four play!” He croaked on his back, groaning and holding his chest with his left hand, while his right still held his saber out to his side. He looked up into the sky. Yea, he was going to die of that he was sure.
The weapon he had thrown surely hadn’t been meant for it and it was a heavier weapon to boot, used for blocking blades. There was a very, very small chance it could sink in like some throwing dagger and be lethal, they weren’t very far apart. What was more likely to happen, he realized, is that if it hit her it could leave a bruise or small cut and likely simply piss her off. He looked on the bright-side though, he would be defiant till the very end.
He picked his head up to look and see if anything came of throwin it and if the watery tendril was still there to continue giving him his whooping.