The Great Ship Walk - Part Two

[rubyrubyruby]

Ruby's ships in the vanguard are now passing by the enemy's own. The cannon blasts that ranged foes may have been sporatic at first, but now it's turning into a real barrage. Like heating up a bag of popcorn in the microwave, the blistering reports of gunpowder and muskets are a riot of sound. The speed at which both fleets are coming together means the immense battle is becoming one hot mess. Ruby's voice over the R.A.D.I.O is almost lost in the tumult of sound. Gunsmoke and glitter plumes into the winds.

RPG: Ruby challenges a difficulty of 10. Ruby chooses Wits and the gifts BLD-ST, PPL-IN, SKL-AD, and SKL-SC. Ruby succeeds.

Sailing inward, the group of five adjust their sails to allow an angled approach to the enemy. The Maurader, then the Fist make their cannos couint. After another moment or two, the Tail Spinner sends a volley of flaming stones carrening through the air aiming to strike enemy ships near the water line. Soon, it becomes clear that there are gunners aboard the targeted ships. The bom and crash of battle joined floats through the air back to the Sea's Treasure.
Captain Flame's mission cannot be slowed or halted at the moment. She must trust that the captains on the other ships are able to hold their line. Her ship with it's smaller, but well armed entourage, continue to sail for the 'base' of the formation, intent on cutting off any retreat. A cry rises, for they have been detected and s contingent of enemy fighters has begun a tight turn to intercept. Flame leans forward against the railing, her captain's hat angling against the breeze that ruffles her hair, "Steady as she goes. Captain Shih. Array your warriors in front of the archers. Gunners, hold until they are in range. It will be a race, ladies and gentlemen. Let's win."

The Reserves are being called in to tangle with the shadowplanes under Wynter's command. Hard to say if it was an order or just the deranged Murder Spagurders smelling blood and glitter in the air. The whole gamut comes streaking and arcing in at the planes like living heat seeking missiles. They careen past their own ships, their passage snapping rigging and sail taut. The very interesting cross-winds are starting to make aerial combat more challenging, adding yet another dangerous element.

Merrisol's squad continues to stretch out across the enemy starboard flank, with the fast sloops in the lead to draw initial fire. The other three vessels loose a staggered barrage of cannon shot upon those who might otherwise pepper holes in their allies. On both sides, chunks of hull disappear in clouds of splinters and rigging frays and writhes as some ordnance finds their mark and sends crew tumbling about the decks. The posse is carrying a lucky Rebman's paw, however, and most who fall pick themselves up again, barely scathed. "Looks like Team Bedlam has secured its dance partners!" Merri relays the status report via R.A.D.I.O., after taking a figurehead count of the enemy now culled from the main mob. "Keep them occupied until Incarnate gives the signal to drag them with us into hell!"

Quinlan smiles a bit - high drama and grand action, this has definitely been a battle for the books. But this is the bit he was asked here for, to help the pulling of the ships through Shadow. So he starts finding a nice stable-ish spot to wedge himself into, so he'll be free to focus on that.

RPG: Wynter challenges a difficulty of 9. Wynter chooses Grace and the gifts FGT-MM, SKL-AR, and SKL-MC. Wynter succeeds.

Wynter's head is turning this way and that, craning to get a accurate assesment of the chaos that is arial combat as bullets rip through the wind along side beast and plane. She grunts as 'Longshanks' spins them into a barrel-roll, a drake going by so close as to shove the plane to one side on disrupted air currents.
The mic is in her hand as she calls out to sections of her small squad. "Whigs! Whigs pull up! Bedge get in there and support her now!" A beatle-esqe plane pulls up on a too sharp dive that brings it dangerously close to the waves with a drake on it's heels. Claws slash out catching one part of gossamer wings and sends the metal composite shimmering down to the water even as Bedge come in for the save and sends the drake into the waves. "That's got him!" says a voice over the radio.
Wynter spyies the reseves of the enemy forces headed her way and gives another set of rapid-fire orders. "Get out of there Whigs, There's nothing more you can do for now. Head back to Banshee for repair! Group Labrat I'm calling you in to assist with our new wiggle worms!"

As the Chimera begins to make her pass through the ranks of opposing vessels, her guns erupt in a series of small explosions trailing from fore to aft along the side of the vessel, spewing smoke and noise as they go. Clive comes alive on the deck, watching for impacts to judge the effectiveness of the first salvo. His eyes flick back and forth between the targeted vessel and the formation ahead, trying to keep enough attention on each to plan both his short and long game. "Solid shooting! Keep it up, Barnaby! Wait for my sign before we fire up the new gun. I got a particular target in mind..."

RPG: Clive challenges a difficulty of 10. Clive chooses Force and the gifts SKL-AD, SKL-MC, SKL-SC, STY-PI, and STY-UE. Clive succeeds.

RPG: Martin challenges a difficulty of 9. Martin chooses Wits and the gifts BLD-OB, BLD-PT, and PAT-SS. Martin succeeds.

Unencumbered by the need to stick to the fleet thanks to their captain's alternate route, the Big Sauce cluster splits in half but only halfway, like a cell caught halfway through mitosis. The Bean and the Cocada, with the Fat Tiger as escort, skirt away from the thick of battle while Big Sauce and Spicy Melissa surge forward to engage the nearest enemy and give the supply ships the opportunity to zip past. Two Cabal ships break away from formation and approach: nimble and well-armed corvettes, one with a distinctively black hull, the other of wood bleached almost white. The telltale sign of crew bustling at the ready, blades shining, is evident to those with sharp eyes. "They're going to flank us. The white one looks like it's going to try to board. Melissa, lean east, cut them off!" she says again in that easy voice that seemingly without effort reaches her crew and the captain of the Melissa. She unsheathes the jeweled cutlass, readying for the worst. "They're within range! First volley," she calls out.

RPG: Lhasa challenges a difficulty of 10. Lhasa chooses Resolve and the gifts SKL-SC and STY-PI. Lhasa succeeds.

Martin neatly avoids things with a flourish that rivals fancy swashbuckling and yet at second glance it might just be a lucky guess. Those that might find their way to his general vicinity so that he can concentrate on his job are Yvonne's job. He's intent on making sure that a thing here or there that is needed is there when it needs to be. It's possible, right? That rope that showed up just at a handy moment to stop a guy from having a worse day than he would have. A bit of extra wind in the sails, that canon ball that was just shy of hitting a main sail. Few things here and there. Anyone gets close to him, Yvonne can deal with them. This kind of thing requires concentration and that's quite difficult at this point but he manages it, with a splash of style and a dash of crazy.

Ruby's vessel rams into the empty spaces between enemy ships, and luckily their plotted course is a good one, and she keeps her marbles. The wedge of ships sailing with her are assaulted on both sides. It's like two schools of fish, or flocks of birds, weaving between one another. And shooting a lot. She bellows up to poor bugger in the crow's nest trying to take cover behind the Storm Orb, "Wierzbowksi! Position re-port!"
Sheltering his face with a hand, the deckhand tries to reply back, but is blasted completely off the mast.
Ruby flinches back as half a dozen Marines join the poor deckhand in being swept away. Her ship shakes as ordinance slams through parts of the railing and clips one of her masts. Flying shrapnel imbeds itself into hull and tears into sails. "We almost 'ave them! Look at 'em! They could never rate against us!" Another quake as a series of glowing shells impact the Beast and supporting vessels. Ruby staggers and falls to one knee, nearly braining herself and losing her hat. "Bog's balls?" She claws herself back upright and wipes blood from the corner of her mouth. Ruby lopes towards the wheel and the communications officer. "Send it! Send tha signal! For tha love 'o Bog an all 'is barnacles!...Forward Wedge! We leavin!"

The return fire from the other ship is well placed at the Chimera's water line with more than a few direct hits striking home. Thankfully for the vessel, she is still sporting the reinforced plating there that had been fitted to prepare her for icy waters. Truth be told, Clive had almost forgotten about it and as the realization strikes, his eyes go wide before he turns to bark out, "Barnaby! Turn her thirty degrees to port and have the others follow! We're cutting through their line and making a run at those troop carriers! Let's haul 'em both over to the port side and get ready to give 'em hell!" The pirate races off to the helmsman as Barnaby starts to interpret the orders and pass them on to individuals about the deck. The crew responds by using a set of winches to reposition both guns on the one side the vessel while Clive works closely with the helmsman on their course. The moment Barnaby has the crew straightened out, signals are being sent to the other ships in the formation to coordinate their end of the maneuver. Big, juicy targets are dead ahead and Clive starts to get a mad gleam in his eye as if they were galleons that were sitting that low in the water on account of all the gold in the hold. A fine prize for the taking!

No longer able to see what damage the Fist and company are sustaining and dishing out, Flame concentrates on getting her ships into position. The sound of shots fired, canon or trebuchet, the whistle of shots followed by the crunch of wood and the screams of the wounded swirl around, carried on glitter-spangled air. Flame holds up her cutlas, then points it toward the Begman manning the R.A.D.I.O. A sqwack sounds as the contraption is activated, "Captain Incarnate," the man's voice begins, "Captain Flame sends her regards. We are in position." Maybe just in time?
Standing on the forecastle, Flame draws in a breath, "It's all yours, Captain Shih." Sheething her cutlas, she takes hold of the ship's railings, as though the physical reminder of what she is doing is enough to give her the strength needed to shift so many. Her eyes close against the destractions, though they open again when the Sea's Treasure takes a hit near her perch. Schrapnel flies and sailors shout. A line of red blooms along Flame's upper arm. She ignores it. Settling her focus more clearly on the task at hand, she begins again, drawing the Pattern to the front of her brain, the illuminated, squiggling lines held at the ready. In a faintly dreamy tone, she informs those around her, "Prepare to jump." To light speed...

Quinlan gets himself wedged into place, making sure no random waves or winds knock him off his boat by use of a judicious bit of rope. Ready to begin the shifting work.

They haven't even begun the shifting from bad to worse waters and the shadowpath of doom, and the fog of war is already getting thick. Lacking stormborn shouty-ness, Merrisol supplements his command with maestro sweeps of his sabre. The aptly-named Bedlam tacks and falls back from leading the flanking charge in order to bring their onboard Shadowshifters to a more central position within the skirmish. Their communications engineers receives Ruby's order for departure, and passes the word along to the captains and to Martin. Amidst guttering fires and scrambling gunners, Merri calls out, "Close ranks and heave to with the targets! Match speed and heading as best you can, and leave the rest to Prince Martin!"

At such increasingly close quarters, there's an added risk of trading paint. Groups of the enemy fleet are attempting an organized assault to occupy whole groups. After an intial pass, they try to turn and match. Taking the bait. To them it appears a suicidal slugmatch, but they're trying to get broadsides when they can, when there's less chance of friendly fire by overshooting their marks. Raking the enemy is naval bastard 101, and look at this! The ranges between targets have been reduced but now there's a messy zebra pattern of friend and foe and it's so target rich. Clear indications abound of daring enemy commanders barking orders to prepare boarding parties on the double. Greedy prize takers seeing such a fine collection of vessels to deny to their most hated enemy.

The ships that Clive encounters guarding the troop transports can't see well beyond the leagues of canvas sail and timber and atmospheric obfuscation. So when Chimera and her squadron come and run the line, it takes them by surprise that ships actually made it ~through~ the hellish horizon of salvos and battle. The plump transports are not as well armed, depending upon their numerous escorts, and the air cover that has been tangled up with Wynter's lot. Uh oh. They start to bring what they can to bear upon Clive's group. They send up flares of panic into the sky and sound great air horns.

RPG: Martin declares that he has the Finessed Shifting (PAT-FS) gift.

Wynter grunts again and again as Longshanks seems to bounce the swift looking forward wing from side to side as if skipping. Her eyes have time to find Lt. 'Legs' Han in trouble as a pair of drakes get her in a pincer manuver and she lowers the mic to her lap warning dying as the Lt's bright red plane is shattered and sent falling to the sea and ships below. Then it's nothing but looking over her shoulder as a drake is hot on their tail. She reaches for the seatbelt ready to take to the air and blast the critter when Longshanks laughter can be heard. "I'm going to slam on the air brakes and it'll fly right by!" Wynter's eyes get big as saucers "WHAT?!" And the plane almost stalls in mid-air. The drake form shadowing them from the sun and teeth snapping inbetween her and the pilot, taking some of Longshanks scarf with it. Then the suicidaly brave pilot lets out a long burst of ammo into the drake.

With none of these fancy schmancy features like R.A.D.I.O.'s aboard the Chimera, it takes a moment for another vessel to translate the signals her way and then for that news to reach Clive. "Ah, bloody hell. This'll come right down to the wire..." Stepping to a forward railing on the poop deck, he cups a hand about his mouth, ducks for a moment as something goes whizzing by overhead, and then calls out for the crew to hear, "Fire the main cannons and then brace! We're shifting!" Weaving their way on through, the cannons on the Chimera have been sounding continuously, but now come the Storm Cannons. A pair of brass and iron Storm Cannons add a new note to the symphony of battle, ringing clearly as they send blasts of lightning hurtling toward the large ships they'd watched from a cliffside as they were loading troops a few days ago.

Martin does what he can to keep Merrisol's ships in on the positive side of probable things that could happen. It doesn't always work, but most of the time the universe complies to the will of the pattern. If it could be, so it should be and so on and so forth but it isn't perfect. If it was was easy, everyone would do it! It's a little bit easier for Merrisol's ships to move, though and a little bit faster. Martin ducks some shrapnel from a hit to the ship he's on but there's little damage since it just happened to hit a place that wasn't crucial for stability and such. "Aye! Onward!" Martin can fake pirate navy captain with the best of them. "Heave to and yes, that other thing."

The roar and crack of cannon fire is deafening, as the black corvette and the Big Sauce fire almost at once, as if they had been holding flame to powder waiting for the moment they were just within the right proximity. Shrapnel flies, and the Sauce's cannons rip through the black corvette with such devastating accuracy that Lhasa could swear it's already listing. And on fire. There's screaming, but to Lhasa's satisfaction it's coming from the enemy ship for the most part. She scrambles forward and peers out into the clearing smoke in search for the supply ships' position and the condition of her sister ship. The call for the Pattern shift is heard through the R.A.D.I.O. and Lhasa scowls. "Ramming speed! Butt that white ship out of the way and then full on! We ain't gonna linger!"
For its part, the Spicy Melissa's maneuver succeeds, blocking the larger white corvette from straight up ramming its way through on its way to the supply ships. They exchange paint, leaving a gnarly scar on the white ship that reveals reddish wood underneath, like a wound. If Lhasa gets what she wants, that white ship gets squished between the two of her own and they high-tail it out of there, leaving two damaged and dying ships in their wake.