rubyrubyruby

Around the central mast is where the strongest pocket of resistance is. With Ailith and Maggie coming in from both sides, there's little avenue for escape. At the mast, there is a female Captain and male First Mate. Armed with flintlocks and shouting for the crew to replay something similar to Custer's last stand. Viciously sharp kukri's slash at those that encroach. Most of them Stand. They aren't automatons though. Flesh and blood, a goodly number find the WinterFae absolutely terrifying, what with their deadly exuberance. The ring of protectors fall until it's just the two upper ranks leveling pistols, practically back to back. The flinklocks look like they have limited volleys possible, and they're wanting to make the last one's count for something if they can. The Captain raises her voice. She's a woman of sinew and muscle. Not a hulking figure, but past middle age. Scarred and hardened. "Welcome aboard! The Bloody Nag offers death to our enemies!" Her First Mate looks like he's going to be sick, but the scimitar in his hand hardly trembles. He starts reciting a dirge or litany under his breath. Something about his time is up, and that sucks.
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Faced with certain death or the luxury of breathing a bit longer, the woman before Ailith chooses the latter. There's quite a deep reservoir of hatred boiling within her. She avoids nodding so her carotid artery doesn't get nicked. She blinks hard and lifts her chin. She parts her lips, still panting after the duel, albeit brief. She responds in Thari, with an accent that's thick but serviceable. "So be it. I envy my dead. At least they are safe from your predations." She sneers, the ache of wounds seeping past the adrenaline.
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Ruby's ship continues to shadow that crippled Ark. While Ailith's vessel is being a good samaritan and not letting anything drown if her Captain can help it...the Beast holds at station with an almost callous regard for the plight of the drowning creatures.
Once there's been a conference between Ailith, Maggie, Merrisol and Ruby on who intends to do what, Captain Incarnate psyches herself up to go diving into choppy waters that Merri is already at work in. Ruby confers via Trump with her Bosun with some instructions should everything go pear shaped, with primo standing orders of 'Do not leave me behind'. With Maggie's heating of some metalwork, Ruby works at bare-handing crooked links and new lengths as she can, with a rather large fishhook broken link to serve at the prow, just below the water line. Engaging the tattooed gills at her neck means at least she doesn't have to worry about oxygen. Outswimming the Middle Ark while it bobs is an effort, though helpfully with a straighter course possible via Maggie making sure the damaged Ark behind it has a straight rudder, and Ailith reducing its drag by eliminating it taking on more water...the plan is made more possible. Ruby has to crawl through the water much harder, dragging the not insubstantial length of chain, though she lacks any sort of clear vision within the water, sticking near the surface to try and use the Lead Arkship in sight. Lots of thrashing motions. Hopefully Ruby's aura of unfriendly-to-animals keeps the worst undersea denizens at bay.
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For all of Ruby's vaunted prowess with manipulating shadow, she's still subjected to unforeseen uncertainties. When the shifting of shadow for her vessel and those accompanying, she can't manage to arrive in the slipstream of the Arks. The realm they translate into is also in the grips of a storm. The sky and the sea are having a bit of a disagreement. Waterspouts and microbursts are traded like blows in a fight. A tortured funnel swizzling up to try and sucker punch...aft. A sudden downward shaft of air pressure that brings snow and hail...starboard. And the Beast, Wind Dancer and Honestas have the honour of navigating the treacherous seas.
Ahead there's more wet rolling hills of ocean, but while they might not have arrived in the wake of the Arks, it looks like they might be lucky enough to come at them from the leeward side. The Arks are squat, and without sails, which is dreadfully annoying when trying to spot them when the horizon keeps coming in and out of sight. But they do have something going for them: Size. A keen and salty eye will note how they're not in formation. One seems to be trying to navigate the swells that they all blunder through, but the two others, which are farther, seem rudderless or inexpertly Captained.

Ruby seems relatively satisfied with where they end up, but gives another glance at the back of an entirely different crew member for some sort of reference. Or ~feels~. It's a bit unorthodox using a person and a tattoo they bear as a potential waypoint. Barking out a series of orders for the crew , it's repeated by the First Mate so everyone gets very loud voice with a three second delay. "Fook, they look even bigger. Can't be possible?unless I came wrong and think I got it roight." She gives her head a shake. "No tellin 'ow close the sholes an reef be. Dunno 'ow much toime we 'ave?'ow many we can tackle?" She blinks away sea spray.
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It's something that could only happen in shadow. A godlike whale hooting and warbling upon a crushed wooden cradle that used to be a Viking ship, in communion with the Rebman Merrisol. Wet whistling and clicking noises that grow more energetic before more strength returns to the miraculously mending sea creature. If anything, the lattice of silver along its stomach becomes brighter and more vibrant. This having urged Captain Merrisol and any other brave souls to venture /inside/ the guts of the Narwhal. Inside it is a worse discovery: Stanchions of harpoons and timbers to maintain a cavern within the innards for easier piece-meal butchering of its flesh.

After removing the artificial and crude supports, the agitation and pain from the Narwhal diminishes, and true power floods easily into the entity. The harassed tone to its gurgling cries attains a deeper resonance. Magic sense shows a restoration. And as the power is drawn back into it, the stench of the dark depths comes back to taint the area in its own special way. Stinky whale. The creature focuses within itself, the tusk from its head curling and bearing new fresh glyphs from where it extends past its cranium. Wet and glistening, they herald the whale diminishing in size once trust is firmly established. To say that the whale 'accidentally' rolled onto the ship and caused it damage in a purely accidental way, would be false. It is still immense, but now the same size as the vessel, rather than dwarfing it. And while the awkward dimensions are reduced, its weight has increased, causing fractures along the ice in a dramatic sunburst ~crack~. As ridiculous as it may seem, through aura or presence, the whale bears whorls and patterns along it's sides like a heraldic coat of arms.

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None of the villagers offer much besides tall tales and dubious looks to what the foreigners are wearing. Either they're naturally suspicious of the strange motley of individuals or have been instructed to be pleasantly distant. And if anyone takes a peek at those rather well-made grey harpoons they've got stacked within their shelters, a family member is summoned to move them to another room or toss a tarp over them.
The long trek requires blazing a trail through snow drifts that are layered upon uneven terrain. Deceptively soft looking as the snow is, when the wind carries it into a fierce enough gust, it can sting the eyes and exposed skin. And it's so very cold out. It is anyone's guess how much bearable it is during the daylight hours. The stars above shine like pinpricks in the void. A few of the constellations match those of certain patron elemental spirits respected by the village's shaman and some of its more talkative residents of Alornerk (oddly enough some of the others called it Pattangayok rather dismissively).
Some sort of blizzard is definitely in store for the group, making visibility poor and stumbling into crevices more likely. The sound of the wind howling between the mountain peaks has curious tonal qualities, as if there was something nearby that was hollow or porous.

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Pull the harpoon things out. That is what Maggie heard. She dances back as the behemouth crumples to the ground. Anxiously, she glances around to be sure that no one was injured in the crush. Relief floods her when she sees that Merrisol is moving, which means that he is alive and relatively okay. Liya is also spotted, which adds to Maggie's relief and she offers the other members of their party a wan, fleeting smile that turns to concentration as she moves in close to the stink-tastic beastie. "It's okay, girl." A croon mared by a slight gag as the scent from the creature overtakes her. Calling on breezes, she guides them to gather the stink and bear it up and away, which will make working close to the creature sort of bearable. Grasping one of the shafts, she tries to draw it out but of course it sticks. Not thinking about the structure of the harpoons that she knows about she does not ease up, but pulls harder. Poor Nelly. The shaft draws out a bit more and sticks. So close. Maggie adjusts her hold and pulls yet again. Hard. Her efforts are for naught, however. For one thing, the barb at the end of the blade catches again. The jerk pulls Maggie forward, then her hands slip on muck and she looses her grip. Stumbling back, she avoids falling with a hop and a skip. That has to hurt! Tears well up in Maggie's eyes, though that could be from the smell... "Poor thing..." A moment's reflection and she adds, "This isn't going to work... What if we put her to sleep? Then we can cut the spears out... Could you and Liya heal her? Maybe if Kerf keeps her calm...? Or asleep? So it does not hurt so much?"

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Gaval burst out from the underbrush along side the runners and peers back over his shoulder. Looks are given from person to person as they flee ahead of the large creature behind them. His lungs are working well and good, most likely already running to get to the meet point. A bland look on his face as he looks once again at Ruby. "I take it I did not miss much of things? Or am I well and truely late. Things seem to have kicked off already."

Ailith can only give Gaval a shrug as she runs to keep up with the others. "The creature was something of a surprise. At least to me."

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