All Hands on Deck! Day 79, Season of Spring, 508 AV Afternoon, the Faleyk Gulf, Heading for the Suvan Bar Crashing against choppy ocean waves, it was an overcast day, with light rain hitting the deck. The spray of the sea roared up against the side of the Serrated Surrender, knocking the occasional unprepared sailor off of his feet. Neither of the two ships locked in this battle of wills and seamanship was holding the wind much, sailing largely against it. A Cromster class pirate ship of some renown, the Serrated Surrender, carrying almost sixty hands aboard, cut the waves, parting their drag on the hull with precision, and uncanny ability. It was the lighter of the two in this chase, and so should be handling going against the sea worse than the heavier, hundred and twenty hand Brigantine trader it chased, but it had an ace or two up its sleeve. Born a red haired fiery Inarta Dek, with an equally distinguishing red moustache, and now a grizzled veteran of these waters, Captain Braten stood on the middle of his ship barking orders at the crew. Cutlass in one hand, hand crossbow at his hip, he stood tall, with authoritative bearing, glaring at his men, and always firmly in control. One Light Bombard, Two Ballistas, and a line of experienced, rough looking crossbowmen stood ready, positioned behind several men with thick tower shields. There was a reason Braten was gaining a fearsome reputation on the sea, and it was all on show right here in how ruthless and prepared the cutthroats he commanded were, but that was nothing compared to the captain himself. “The hull won’t take much more of this speed,” called one of the pirates, holding onto the rigging for his life. A throwing axe span free from captain’s hand and imbedded itself in the speaker’s chest, sending the upstart malcontent overboard. “Any more opinions? No? Then get on with your jobs, and you Svefra I am not paying you to put holes in my hull, see to it or you’re next.” Braten suffered no challenge, no matter how small. Concentrating his ocean blue eyes to be yet more focused, Kvar reached into the Djed he reserved for sea journeys, the soul layer of substance, but not him, not what made the Svefra who he was. Projecting a small push of current, his res, around the hull; the twenty year old Driftweaver redoubled his efforts to part the surging waves in time around the ship; doing what the hull did, only before it had to, and freeing some of the drag on the surface of the pirate’s vessel. He could do nothing for the bow and stern waves created by the ship, three were too many to manage for his ability, but holding the ocean’s added drag at bay was enough to get the ship a step closer to its hull speed. If they could maintain this obvious advantage largely against the wind, it would mean the pirates were coming right up on the stern of their victims! They would be sitting ducks. Trained in this trade since birth, he knew his limits. Breaking every third wave coming at them with as little effort as possible to exert, Kvar rested as the next two waves hit the Serrated Surrender head on, spraying the crew with the effects of the sea. Braten was dangerously resourceful, when he had learned Kvar was the reason a vessel from the Tempest fleet had evaded him, rather than seek revenge he sort out the advantage, and paid the Driftweavers handsomely for the twenty year old's service. Biting into another soaked bread roll, Kvar was keeping his energy up, and his head clear. Onboard the Brigantine, the panicked crew of The Moguel were coming into view, but wherever they turned, further into the wind or instead using it, the smaller, more nimble Cromster matched their course! OOC :
Hope that sets the scene as promised. Written to the aforementioned Pirate Metal, and Kvars new War Song!
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