Atercia

Able's hands clutched over his chest, as a soft laugh escaped from underneath that hood. Able's figure tensed up in some pain while he continued to laugh harder and harder. He called out to the warlord, "You know, my friend...seeing you, a mage yourself ,you ought to realize something. That when learn magics, there is always mistakes...or horrible accidents that happen while learning." Able's calm, cold voice came back soon after as the pile of black cloaks lifted up and started towards the Warlord. "...you know before I learned from rot wood...I had an accident." Able's said, almost enjoying his own lecture. "...a horrible accident that left me scared, but more importantly my blood..." He paused as he got much closer to the Warlord, a yard or two away. "My blood began to rot, to turn into something else." One might have noticed by Able's voice that a large smirk had formed along his lips, as his head leaned back and flung forward as he sprayed that thick black ichor at the Warlord's face. "...a rather nasty poison."

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*~Gabriel Crow~*
"Thy Will Be Done, Thy Kingdom Come."

The punch hit home hard and quickly. She didn't think that the mage would have such a powerful hit. She rolled a bit with the punch, but it still sent her reeling a bit. She stumbled to the side with her now bloodstained sword. "Surprisingly barbaric of you. The great warlord resorting to fists. How the mighty have fallen." She smiled a bit. Sibyll felt some of the black ichor from Able's mouth hit her right in the thigh and felt a burning sensation start. She attempted to brush it off absentmindedly, but it stuck to her gauntlets and fingers and started eating through. She turned towards the warlord that hit her and swung her own fist at his face. He was too close to swing her sword at, but she was willing to bet that she could pack more of a punch than he could.

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The black ichor sprayed onto the warlord's face. He screamed as it landed on his skin, it felt as if his skin had been dipped in boiling water. The substance also felt thick; as he rose his hands to pull at it, it just clung to his fingers making them burn as well. "What have you done?" he gasped, feeling some of the ichor seep into his mouth causing a sensation he never wished to feel.

As Sibyll swung her first, the warlord didn't have the capacity to see it, let alone react to it and it send him tumbling to his knees. The ichor continued to burn at his face, but the initial shock had subdued and adrenaline was now racing through his body. If he was die today, he would make sure the others died with him.

Focusing on the sea around them, the warlord drew two spells together. One was a healing spell that would summon a small amount of water to clear his body of the black ichor that continued to burn him. The second was much larger and required all of his concentration.

The ocean around them began to churn as the waves began to move in a new direction. It wasn't immediately obvious what was happening at first but within seconds, it was clear that the sea was beginning to turn in a circular motion. The warlord was creating a maelstrom that would drag them all to their doom.

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Distant bonfire smoke with a hint of cinnamon; that's the smell of adventure

The Dragon placed itself between Alex's attack and its master, each hammering blow sending handfuls of scales scattering as the beast roared in defiance and pain.

Both master and creature looked up above as Alex stood motionless above, scythe in hand and wings spread full. It was a gaze in silent recognition of what they truly faced. Realization of what he was had donned on them.

To most, Azazel is the God of Rogues. A God of the free-spirited, those who refuse to be held to any mortal laws.

To a seldom few, they know Him as the God of Death. A dark specter who represents the natural end of all living things.

The Dragon Lord looked up and knew she stared not at a man, but an Avatar of Death.

"Retreat..." She muttered under her breath, though unable to move out of sheer fear. Her Dragon looked back at her, steeling her nerves with its glance. "RETREAT!" She bellowed, running to the side of the ship and jumping overboard. The Dragon followed, swooping beneath her and catching her in its saddle before she could be swallowed by the sea.

A grim smile crept about Alex's face. "Run little dragon lord, run. Go tell your mistress, tell her I'm coming for her."

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I can no longer cause my sig to be invisible.

I can, however, insult you (the reader) and laugh about it. If you actually take the time to read this, not only are you a glutton for pain, but you're also a brain-rotted moron. So there. Ha.

The elven woman saw what was happening and jumped on top of the warlord. "You bastard. I'll kill you for this." She rained blows upon him, ignoring her wounds. Her only thought was to kll him at least before his spell got the chance to take them all down. She could feel herself bleeding, there was a warm liquid going down her side, but that didn't seem to matter in the face of her rage.

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As Sibyll launched herself at the warlord, he began to cackle, a laugh that sounded so unnatural here on the seas. The punches rained down on him, but he was in a place beyond pain now. The idea of death swam over him and the Goddess herself would bless him for making such a bold sacrifice. A blood sacrifice for Her.

The maelstrom continued to turn and as it grew it power it required less magic, as the laws of physics took over. The warlord, blood streaming down his body, pushed at Sibyll and managed to make some room between them. Falling onto his back, he watched the sky turning, felt the rotting wood beneath him.

His ship was falling to pieces, the dark mage had seen to that, and only the warlord's magic held it together. He released his grip of the spell and the ship groaned as magic reversed. Clumps of wood began to fall away, some clung on as the ichor stuck the pieces together.

The ship was dead though, just like him. He felt the wood loosen beneath his skin and suddenly he was falling, landing in one of the cabins below the surface where his men had slept. No one would be sleeping here tonight.

Looking up, his vision blurred, the ship continued to burst and the sky started to appear though more and more holes. He was an aquamancer and it was about time this captain went down with his ship.

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Distant bonfire smoke with a hint of cinnamon; that's the smell of adventure

From underneath Able's hood, one might notice it moved quickly glancing around as if it was searching for something. He slide over the Sybill. "My dear, we might want to leave." Able's voice seemed concerned, for the first time anyone could tell. "I've seen this magics before...it only leads to death." He grabs Sybill's arm and pulls her back towards the OsOs.


(OOC: How far is the OsOs from the Warlord's ship?)

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*~Gabriel Crow~*
"Thy Will Be Done, Thy Kingdom Come."

After noticing that the Warlord's face was suffciently pummelled Sibyll rose up. She jerked her arm away from Able, not liking the way that his touch felt. And what was that burning sensation she now had on her hand?
"Running, got it." she started to run, but her foot fell through a gap in the rotted wood. She struggled and pulled it out as the ship fell apart around them. "Good job, genius. You rotted the ship while we were on it!" she yelled to Able as she tried to make her way back.

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Alex hovered low over the rotting ship as the maelstrom began to spin the ship. At this rate, the maelstrom would drag not just the warlord's dreadnought to the depths but the OsOs as well.

If they waited on Able and Sibyll anyway. The captain must have known this as well: the OsOs was beginning to depart. The two wouldn't likely make it.

For a moment, Alex considered not lending his assistance. Then again, neither of them had out right condemned him, just the young bookish mage who didn't know the difference, not that he could be blamed for that.

"Grab a hand. Both of you. Or drown. It's your choice, really." He said, extending a hand to each of them.

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I can no longer cause my sig to be invisible.

I can, however, insult you (the reader) and laugh about it. If you actually take the time to read this, not only are you a glutton for pain, but you're also a brain-rotted moron. So there. Ha.

OOC I thought the Dragon lord and the Dragon were on the Osos going after Blane?

Crystal noticed the Malestorm and frowned. "Great..." She shook her head. Crystal looked at Blane knocked out on the deck, with him gone on a rampage he started to attack everyone. She had to knock him out to stop him.

"Can you stop the Malestorm Crystal?" Scarlet asked jumping off Blane's back and onto her shoulder.

"No... but what i can do is summon winds to get us out of it. Out here it's not that hard," Crystal sat crossed legged on the deck as her horns shined white. She closed her eyes and started the spell then opened them, her eyes shined white too. The winds carried her vision to the Warlord's ship. Alex was getting ready to take off with the Rouge and Mage in hand.

Without help they wouldn't make it back to the ship before she summoned the winds to take them away. A strong gust of wind pushed under Alex's wings and helped him take off with great speed. She had also talked the wind elements to pick the older mage up and carry him to the ship.

With those out of the way she focused on gathering the wind from all around the ship and from farther off too.

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Sibyll took Alex's hand without hesitation. She may not like taking people's help, but she knew that she couldn't swim against a whirlpool by herself.

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Able glanced up to the creature extending his hand to him. The thick pile of black cloaks took a moment, then extended a robed hand gripping it loosely, the feeling underneath the cloak was a frail, gaunt form.

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*~Gabriel Crow~*
"Thy Will Be Done, Thy Kingdom Come."

"Well then, off we go." It took very little effort to lift the swordsman and the mage, though that was hardly an accomplishment. The mage was a gaunt man, hardly anything but skin and bones, and Sibyll was an elf, not exactly heavy lifting.

Alex brought both of them back over to the OsOs, then cut himself off from the shard of Azazel, ending his transformation and returning him more or less to "normal."

"Well then, I think that's enough excitement for one day. I'm going to rest. It would not be a wise move to disturb me."

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I can no longer cause my sig to be invisible.

I can, however, insult you (the reader) and laugh about it. If you actually take the time to read this, not only are you a glutton for pain, but you're also a brain-rotted moron. So there. Ha.

Sibyll nodded, taking in a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. After a few minutes she noticed a burning sensation on her hand. She looked down and saw bits of her flesh smoking where Able's blood had touched her. "Fuck!"She yelled, swinging her hand about as she felt like it was on fire. "What is this stuff? What did you do to me, mage?" The wound in her side bled some more and she could feel the wound in pain now. "Fuck! I'm bleeding! When did he get me?"

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The battle had taken the energy out of everyone; Siyu watched as everyone went in their own separate directions wanting to rest or to heal while they had the chance. Os stood proud at the wheel of the ship he hadn't expected to survive the battle; apparently his cargo of travellers were more valuable to him than he had estimated.

Siyu headed below deck and found a bed which he curled up in. Exhausting hit, and he fell asleep immediately. The days passed quickly then, living on the sea was a repetitive way of life, especially when not being attacked by dragons and warlords.

Siyu had taken to reading books or writing in his journal to pass the majority of the time. Today, he was sat on deck in the shade writing when he heard the call from the crow's nest. "Land ahoy!"

Rushing to stand, Siyu spotted what must be Daldamer to the south of them. Excitement rushed through him as he realised he would be one of the first people from Ilianor to see this strange new land.

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Distant bonfire smoke with a hint of cinnamon; that's the smell of adventure