[Memory] Eye of the Storm

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For all of your traveling the open waters of Vita: Austan Ocean, Galkan Ocean, Quiet Sea, Cea di Vesta, and the Tincta Basta.

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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Sat Aug 17, 2019 8:35 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
The Eqe Aqawe, Over the Tincta Basta
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The Eqe Aqawe flew through the night sky above the Tincta Basta, a small black speck glittering beneath an ocean of stars. The waters below rocked, slow and steady, an echo of distant motion beneath a shaft of moonlight. The airship rode the currents of wind that traveled from Old Rose Harbor to the Muluku Islands with a steady, practiced ease, rocking gently side to side. Occasionally they drifted slightly up or down, skipped or skidded over a patch of something rough, but for the most part the ride was smooth and easy, at least for those first few hours.

They were several hours into the trip now, and Uzoji had stood at the wheel throughout. The cabin behind him was nearly black, but for a small hooded phosphor lantern, secured to the arm of one of the chairs further back from the bridge. Niccolette sat there, the skirts of her dress spread out over her seat, a heavy book on her lap, lit by its little pool of light. She read easily and steadily, unperturbed by the rocking of the ship, eyes tracing over lines of monite, the ring on her left hand glinting in the light when she lifted it to turn the page.

All the same, the chimes across the front window tinkled a steady chorus against the glass, and Uzoji glanced not infrequently off to the side, where the distant massing of dark blurred clouds on the horizon grew ever closer - vague, indistinct shapes at first, which grew steadily into towering thunderheads. Distant lightning crackled between them, arcing though the sky.

Aremu had largely stayed off the bridge, the soft throbbing hum of the airship’s engine a testament to his own work. When he appeared, it was with a tense, worried look pinching his face.

“We have a tail,” Aremu said, low-voiced, standing just behind Uzoji.

Uzoji glanced back over his shoulder at Aremu, then forward again. “How long?”

“Since the Rose,” Aremu said, grimly. “I thought it a coincidence then, and when they dropped out of sight...“

“Hulali’s tits,” Uzoji cursed. “Same ship?” he asked, the question light - as if he didn’t doubt Aremu, but more wished it might not be true.

“Gods damned distinctive gasbag,” Aremu grimaced. “Not the right ship for just tailing.”

“No,” Uzoji said, slow and quiet. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Wake Chibugo. He ought to be able to get a read on their weapons.”

“Ea iora,” Aremu murmured, the Mugrobi soft and lilting on his tongue. He hurried back. 

Niccolette watched him go, eyes glittering in the darkness, then lowered her gaze back to her book, turning another page. 

When they came back, it was Aremu and Chibugo both. Chibugo was a galdor, his field not dissimilar to Uzoji’s, with clinging static particles just outweighing the physical ones, heavy and sweeping from him. He was the same height as Aremu; unlike the other two Mugrobi, he did not shave his head, and his hair stood out from his scalp in tight curls. Both he and Aremu looked thoroughly tense.

“Not good news, Uzoji,” Chibugo said. He had a low, almost gravelly voice. “Hauling a lot of cannons for a friendly tail.”

“Nobody we know?” Uzoji asked.

Chibugo and Aremu both shook their heads.

“Tried the new signals too – no response,” Aremu said, his voice as tense as Chibugo’s.

Uzoji’s hands opened and closed against the spokes of the wheel, fingers tapping lightly against the wood.

Niccolette closed her book, calmly. She switched off the hooded lantern as well, stored both of them away, then came to join the other three with her arms crossed over her chest.

“We’ll try to lose them,” Uzoji said, finally. “Cloak her.”

Aremu glanced at Niccolette.


Niccolette shrugged, almost delicately. “I shall change,” she told him.

Aremu grinned. “I would not have said it,” he chuckled.

Niccolette grinned back, wicked, and the two made their way off the deck, talking low-voiced together.

Chibugo exhaled. “Cracked in the water barrel, they are, if they mean to take us alone mid-flight,” he said, quietly.

Uzoji shrugged, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “That, or they know something we don’t. I’d rather not find out.”

Chibugo grimaced. “Flood that. I’ll prepare the plot.” He made his way off the deck as well, moving as quickly and sure-footedly as Aremu and Niccolette had.

Uzoji glanced back over his shoulder at Kirrah, and raised his voice slightly to include the passive. “Ms. Grey, Hawke didn’t mention anything to you about company, did he?”

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Last edited by Niccolette Ibutatu on Sat Oct 19, 2019 1:12 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Sat Aug 17, 2019 9:21 pm

Somewhere between the begining and the end of times
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After her initial episode of throwing up, Kirrah stomach more or less adapted to the treatment. Kirrah took what remained of her dignity with her to the command center, after a quick detour to pick a book from her stuff, which she used in passing to confirm nothing was broken.

She was pretty much useless for as long as they were airborne, and the flight itself was quite a bore once they had stabilized themselves in the air current. There were probably some technicalities in it, but those were out of what Kirrah’s could grasp, so she instead used this time to focus on her studies.

This particular book was specially focused on a field of alchemy she seldom fiddled with: Botany.

If she was by now an expert on refining poppy under all its form, growing it wasn’t a field she had too much experience with. Luckily, it wasn’t exactly some forbidden knowledge, so the books on the subject were quite detailed, encompassing a large array of information and techniques. Currently, she had long went over all the bits about poppy, but the rest of this book was just as intriguing to the young alchemist, this author going into a lot of details about the soil, which turned the whole subject of botany into something more “chemical” oriented, which happen to perfectly fit Kirrah’s fancy.

Until Uzoji question drew her out of her reading.

She frowned, closing the book and standing up to have a look at what the galdor was pointing to.

– Hmmm. Considering the sheer effort made to have us exit Old Rose Harbor discreetly, I’d said we abide by the “Shot first, ask question later” policy there. If there is nobody alive to ask question to, all the better.

Kirrah wasn’t an expert in aerial fight, hell, she wasn’t even remotely comfortable with an eventless flight yet, so she asked, offering her meager skills if they were needed:

– I’m not sure I may be of great use to you, but if I can manage anything to help you, just ask. Considering the fuel and chemical I have on hand, I may craft you some Greek fire *

Kirrah was basically idle hand there, and she hated this, despite knowing that she would likely only get in the way of what was about to happen.

* Greek fire might need a rename in thorn, I’ll submit it to approval so it get a more “Thorn like” name, I’ll edit then.


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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Sun Aug 18, 2019 3:13 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
The Eqe Aqawe, Over the Tincta Basta
Uzoji still stood at the wheel, both hands gently holding the spokes. His gaze held on the currents of air in front of them, the dark sky spotted with stars, the distant rocking of the water below. He glanced back at Kirrah with a smile as she spoke. It faded, and he lifted an eyebrow, turning his gaze back out to the window. The ship shuddered, slightly, and Uzoji made the faintest correction to the wheel, smoothing out their path.

“Thank you for the suggestion, Ms. Grey,” Uzoji said. “I’ll take it under consideration,” he smiled at her again, but there was something a little more serious in his eyes than before. Uzoji glanced out at the horizon again, hands loose once more against the wheel. The chimes burst against the glass, a bright bouncing noise, and Uzoji’s gaze drifted back to the distant tall gray clouds, the scattered lightning dancing between them.

Uzoji tapped his fingers against the wheel again, thoughtful. “The Eqe Aqawe is my ship,” he said, finally. “In the Rose, in the poppy fields of the Muluku Islands – I will be happy to follow your lead.” He looked back at Kirrah again, and he wasn’t exactly smiling, not now. The ship’s captain looked forward again. “I don’t intend to be rude, but it’s very important that you understand. If I ask you a question, it is because I need the answer from you. If I ask you to do something, it is because it needs to be done. Hesitations, delays – if this flight does not go as smoothly as we hoped, they might cost us our lives.”

Uzoji held his hands firm on the wheel, but now he turned to Kirrah more fully, meeting her eyes, and smiled again, although there was still something hard and serious glinting in his dark gaze. “If you have any questions, any concerns – now is the time. Later, I won’t be able to allow it.”


Niccolette swept into the bedroom she shared with Uzoji. She reached behind herself, undoing the buttons that led from the back of her neck down her spine with quick, neat motions, until she could shrug off her dress, along with the shift and underskirts beneath. She folded them all with practiced motions, and set them to the side. The Bastian knelt with bare knees on the floor before the trunk that held her and Uzoji’s things, undoing the ties that secured it to the wall. She opened it, pulled out a shirt, and slid it on over her corset, doing up the buttons, and then a pair of slacks as well, sliding her legs into them. The Bastian secured the slacks with a belt, put her dress and skirts into the trunk, and closed the lid, tying the trunk back into place.

From next to the door, she grabbed a coat strapped into place against the wall, and pulled it on as she emerged back into the hallway. It fell to about mid-thigh, with a slight flare outwards at the bottom, but still sleek enough not to be caught by the wind, not to whip around her and threaten her balance. By the time she met Aremu at the exit to the deck, Niccolette had done up the last button, and was winding her heavy hair into a sleek knot, securing it with a ribbon and tucking it into the coat’s collar.

“By His waters,” Aremu said, grinning.

“By Her claws,” Niccolette shot back.

Aremu laughed, and opened the door out to the deck.

Niccolette crossed the swaying boards with the ease of long practice, never leaving one leather handhold before she had the next firmly in hand. She closed windows as she went, shutting down any possible spark of life within, securing wooden shutters over the glass so that not even the distant starts would sparkle against the ship. She glanced back over her shoulder, once, to see Aremu disappearing around the hull of the ship, clinging to the ropes that ran the outside, his booted toes resting on the barely-inch-wide ledge that ran beneath, a single loop of rope around his waist holding him in place against a fall.

Niccolette didn’t look for long. The winds that battered them this high were fierce; they whistled at her face, snatching bits of hair free, and turned fingers sharp and cold within moments, leaving them red and pinched. By the last window Niccolette was fumbling, and it was hard for her to keep her grasp. She succeeded, though, latching every window on the deck firmly closed, and made her way back to the door, clinging to it and waiting.

Aremu appeared back around the other edge of the ship, climbed back onto the deck. He unhooked the loop of rope around his waist from the ship’s ropes, climbed out of it, and grinned at Niccolette, dropping to the deck. He skirted the edges, crossing between the leather straps two at a time, and if his teeth were chattering as much as hers by the time they went back into the ship, neither mentioned it.

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Rolls for Nicco and Aremu's tasks: SidekickBOTToday at 12:08 PM
@moralhazard: 2d6 = (5+6) = 11
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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Sun Aug 18, 2019 4:26 pm

Somewhere between the begining and the end of times
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Kirrah was quite put down by Uzoji words. Not about the tone, of her having to obey any order, which was a given, but the obvious lack of any use she might have in this pursuit left her with a bad taste in her mouth.

No matter how long one has to live with it, it never gets easier to find out just how inconsequential one’s action might be unto the path of its own survival.

She answered briefly:

– No. No questions, I’ll use the best of my abilities to stay out of your way. Just ask if anything can be done to assist you, even if I doubt it.

Kirrah was pragmatic about the situation in the end, and went to her stuff to stash her book, and take a cape to cover her head from the weather. She also retrieved some medical reagents that might, hopefully not, be useful.

She then walked back to the commanding center, and waited in the same corner, seemingly indifferent to the whole agitation, musing that dying into the explosion of a pirate airship had at least more flair that bleeding out in a gutter.

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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Sun Aug 18, 2019 6:15 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
The Eqe Aqawe, Over the Tincta Basta
Uzoji nodded to Kirrah, accepting her response. “One thing,” he called as she began to walk away. “No lights,” he reached back with one hand, gesturing at whatever the passive had been using to read by in the dark cabin. “We’ll need to be as dark as possible.”

By the time Kirrah returned to the cabin, Niccolette and Aremu were there. Niccolette stood, arms crossed over her chest, reddened hands tucked beneath her sleeves. Aremu was making a few adjustments.

A long thin wire that ran over the ceiling jiggled, and a small bell near the helm rang. Niccolette, Aremu and Uzoji glanced up at it as one.

“I shall go,” Niccolette left the command center, making her way out into the long hallway behind.

“Once Chibugo does the cloaking spell, Uzoji will push the ship," Aremu told Kirrah. "You’ll want to strap in, either against the wall or in one of the chairs.” If Kirrah hadn’t already put her book away, the passive would suggest she do so. “Nothing unsecured,” he said, quiet and serious. He glanced back over his shoulder at Uzoji.

The Mugrobi galdor was staring at the window, frowning at the horizon. “I don’t like this storm,” he said, almost to himself, his head shaking once. “But – we shall see. Aremu, check their position.”

Aremu nodded, and ducked off of the command center, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Niccolette had made her way a few doors down. She opened one, descended two steps, and ducked into a small room, looking down at Chibugo. The Mugrobi knelt in the midst of a prodigium, made of hyeroscillators nailed in a circle to the floor. Elaborate monite markings were carved on the floor around him, water sloshing gently from side to side in each, and the Mugrobi was in the exact center of them all.

Niccolette raised an eyebrow.

Chibugo exhaled. “Ready,” he said, calmly.

Niccolette nodded. “Good,” she paused. “I’ll let you know.” The Bastian took the stairs back up.

Aremu was coming back, his face grim. “They’re flooding close,” he said, voice tight. "Too flooding close."

“Tell Uzoji Chibugo is casting,” Niccolette replied. She dropped back into the room, and gave Chibugo a firm nod.

The Mugrobi exhaled, and began to chant, a long stream of monite echoing from his mouth. He asked the mona to hide the ship from view, to make the Eqe Aqawe no different from the darkness that surrounded it, as subtle and black as the depths of the night. Niccolette, at the edge of his ramscott, could feel it etheric in the air, powerful and heavy.

Chibugo finished the cast, still kneeling. He looked up at Niccolette and nodded, once, firmly, conquest shining in his eyes. He rose, stepped back out of the spell circle, and harnessed himself into the wall.

Niccolette half-ran to the cabin, hurling herself into a seat. “It is done!” She cried, gripping a harness, pulling the straps over herself.

Uzoji was unharnessed, the only one left free. Aremu had strapped himself against the wall as firmly as Niccolette was, and he gripped tightly to the straps.

Uzoji inhaled, began to speak –

Something rocked the ship, an enormous, powerful blow, shuddering through them.

Uzoji froze, his eyes wide – his lips stopped moving.

There was snap in the air, like something bursting, and the Mugrobi galdor was thrown straight back, off the platform and away from the wheel, slamming hard into the door across the room.

Niccolette screamed, fumbling at her harness. She leapt to her feet, sprinting across the room to her husband. Uzoji coughed, still half on the ground, his eyes fluttering wildly.

The wheel at the front of the ship spun. Aremu was already running for it, gripping it tightly, holding it in place.

The door behind Uzoji and Niccolette flew open, and Chibugo stood there, eyes wide. “What the flooding fuck?” He cried. “I couldn’t hold the upkeep –” His eyes dropped to Uzoji and he froze.

“They’ve hooked us,” Aremu said, grimly, still fighting the wheel.

Niccolette pressed her ear to her husband’s chest – forced his eyelids up, one by one, peering into his eyes. She shuddered, and relaxed.

“He has brailed,” Niccolette said, looking up. “I cannot say how long the backlash will last.” She pressed her lips together. “Chibugo, the wheel. Aremu, help me with him.” Her voice took on the sharp snap of command, and neither Chibugo nor Aremu argued.

Chibugo hurried to the wheel, grasping it, jerking the airship back under control. Aremu released it the moment the galdor was in place, and he and Niccolette lifted Uzoji, carrying him to one of the chairs. Niccolette harnessed her husband in place and rose, taking a deep breath. Uzoji fluttered, half-conscious, but still didn't seem to be able to speak.

“Aremu, you do what you must to get the hook loose,” Niccolette said, firmly. “Ms. Grey,” she turned to the passive, eyes snapping green in the darkness. “With me, if you mean to be useful. Meet me on the deck as soon as you can. Bring your weapons.”

Niccolette did not wait for an answer, turning and making her way from the bridge. She stepped into her and Uzoji’s room, and emerged with a holster strapped across her chest, a gun at one hip beneath her coat. She would wait at the door to the deck for Kirrah – although not for long. Aremu was already outside, a slim dark shape against the stars beyond.

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Roll for Chibugo's cloaking spell and Uzoji's push spell: SidekickBOTToday at 2:34 PM
@moralhazard: 2d6 = (5+1) = 6
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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Sun Aug 18, 2019 6:56 pm

Somewhere between the begining and the end of times
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Kirrah, having nothing better to do, didn't argue about tying herself down to her seat. Having nothing else to do, she watches the careful preparation of Uzoji casting, not understanding a word of it though.

When the tremor hit them, and Uzoji flew unto the floor, it took a few second to Kirrah to understand what happened.

She fought with her buckle until she finally got loose, and searched through her satchel until she found out what she was looking for: A vial containing a clear looking liquid. When she found out at her lab that she would be traveling with gollies, she picked some of this medicine.

To call it a medicine was stretching the truth a bit though, but while gollies working with the Bad Brothers weren’t many, they sure existed, and most fiddled into some drug addiction to drown their existential crisis. And since most faced the problem of backlash from time to time, they had more or less identified the drug that soothe the aftereffects a bit. It was a mix of pain killer, to relieve the body pain and headache, and also some stimulant to “restart” the body. It didn’t solve the root of the problem but eased the symptoms.

Before she could kneel next to Uzoji to help it to his lips, she shuddered, feeling the cold gaze of Nicco on her back, not even trying to conceal the clear threat, as she told her to fuck of.

Sleight of Hand Roll – Great SuccessShow

SidekickBOTAujourd’hui à 00:45
@Kirrah: 1d6 = (5) = 5


Kirrah shrugged and put on a show of putting away the vial but instead, by a small sleight of hand, dropped it discreetly right into Uzoji hand, letting the ship captain the choice of trusting her expertise or not. She then answered to Nicco in a veiled manner, actually returning Uzoji his previous words, as an advice.

– Your funerals. I might not be remotely competent in flying an airship, but on the field of drug and the such you’d still ought to listen if I were you.

She walked after Nicco, starting to stress about the incoming fight. By all account she wasn’t that great of a fighter. There was a huge difference between knowing which end of a knife was meant to enter the enemy neck and fighting experimented air pirates.

Her brain was already ablaze of any possibility she had, on board, to use her environment to fight dirty, which was more her field of expertise.



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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Sun Aug 18, 2019 7:58 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
The Eqe Aqawe, Over the Tincta Basta
Niccolette had not hesitated in the slightest to tell Kirrah what she thought of her attempts to help.

“Stay the fuck away from my husband,” Niccolette spat. Her eyes fixed on Kirrah, firmly, and perhaps for the first time the galdor visibly listened to her words; the Bastian did not look terribly pleased with what she heard.

Uzoji was still half-conscious at best; if he heard Kirrah, he didn’t respond in any meaningful way. He wasn’t exactly capable of holding onto things, and the vial rolled from his palm into the edge of the chair, tucked discretely between the cushion and arm, no more than the faintest glint of light on glass.

Niccolette glanced Kirrah over at the door, and made a face. “There are leather straps along the edges of the deck,” she said, coldly. “Keep one hand on them at all times, if you do not wish to fall. We keep them from coming through here,” she rested her hand on the door for a moment, then glanced at Kirrah. Her lips pursed. Niccolette had not thought it needed to be said, but – then – she did not have any great respect for the passive’s intelligence. “Shut the door behind you,” Niccolette told Kirrah.

With an exhale, the Bastian dropped her hand to the handle, turned it, and pulled the door inwards. The winds whipped through the opening, howling down the corridor, and Niccolette strode out onto the deck. The Bastian turned, sliding along the wall, shoved one hand through a strap, wrapping the leather hold around her wrist and gripping it tightly with her fingers.

There was a metal chain glistening overhead, with a heavy hook that had latched on to the massive balloon at the top of the airship. The far end of it was hooked to a ship overhead, larger than the Eqe Aqawe, glinting darkly between them and the distant stars. The chain’s links glistened in the night, rattling and jerking, but despite that a shadowy figure was descending towards them, and fast.

With her free hand, Niccolette drew her pistol, sighted it along the chain, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet ripped through the shadowy figure – he (or she) twitched, once, along the chain, then half-fell, only his harness holding in him place. For a moment, Niccolette hoped he would fall, but he didn't; he jerked, instead, and grabbed hold of the chain. He dangled for a moment, one arm hanging useless at his side.

Off to the side, Niccolette and Kirrah would both be able to see Aremu climbing along the edges of the balloon. Nothing tethered him to the ship but his own strength as he made his way over the edges of the chain link casing, moving steadily towards the hook that tethered them to the other ship.

What felt like an enormous gust of wind rocked the ship; Niccolette held tight to her strap. Overhead, Aremu clung for a moment, then kept climbing as the ship straightened out.

The man hooked to the chain overhead swayed in the wind, and began to descend again, slowly, feeding himself down the chain with one hand.

Overhead, more dark figures were dropping from the ship above; these were harnessed in, two of them, with leather straps around their legs and waist holding them in place, dropping from the ship above on long lines.

Niccolette held still for a long moment. She didn’t dare shoot at the chain link again, not now – not with Aremu moving overhead, and the ship swaying in the wind. Instead, she focused her gaze on the leftmost figure, the one whose lips were already moving, around whom a hazy swarm of energy filled the air as he descended – whose small stature was visible even from below.

Niccolette focused her gaze on his lips and began to cast. She chanted monite like a prayer, calling on the mona to cut the man’s tongue. Her field pulsed in the air around her, bright, vibrant living energy sweeping through her and Kirrah both, and the air around her hazed. This spell, Niccolette knew from her own research; it was not a spell taught at Brunnhold, not one dreamt of on the dueling grounds. To cut an opponent’s tongue might be to permanently disable them. It was, to most galdori, an utterly distasteful act - particularly to do it while they were casting.

Niccolette didn’t hesitate even for a moment.

The Bastian curled the spell; hazy energy streamed through the star-lit sky, seeping into the mouth of the still casting galdor overhead – not only cutting his tongue, but forcing him to brail as well. The figure jerked, and spasmed in his harness, letting out a horrible, high-pitched scream of pain. Niccolette watched him a moment longer – he was still descending towards them – and grinned at the sight of blood blossoming dark against his lips. Not her best cast, she thought coolly, but then - it did not take much to force a brail.

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Niccolette shoots the man on the chain: SidekickBOTToday at 4:38 PM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (4) = 4
Niccolette casts a cut tongue spell: SidekickBOTToday at 4:47 PM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (3) = 3
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Kirrah
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: The viper
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Mon Aug 19, 2019 4:48 pm

Somewhere between the begining and the end of times
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Kirrah caught sight of both Aremu and Nicco seeming fairly occupied. She then turned to see the third assailant draw a bizarre handgun. She darted away from his line of sight, but the bullet never came, instead, it was a grapnel that flew from the weapon, allowing him to unhook himself and slide down with grace on the deck.

Kirrah could feel her intestine curl up under the stress, as the man let go of his tool, and instead drew a boarding saber. The man was a galdor without any hesitation but looked way stronger physically than all those “indoor cat” type that made the bulk of the galdori population. This one harbored a thin mustache and a sleeveless shirt, not unlike Aremu, which show his muscled arms.

Then man wasn’t quite close to how bulky Aremu was, but more than enough to demonstrate his long experience as a man of arm.

The ship was still moving a lot, the wind getting fiercer every second. Even the man had to take action and to grasp one of the handholds as he moved toward Kirrah.

Kirrah felt highly disadvantaged by this configuration, her not being her opponent match, not even close, in term of footing on the shaky airship, and also having to sacrifice one hand to get a grip, while she was used to fight with two daggers.

The man finally reached Kirrah, which was holding her ground currently. Both were more or less the same height, showcasing the galdor impressive physique for his own race. He raised his blade and started with a straight hacking movement, clearly trying to overpower his opponent, but Kirrah grit her teeth and herself swing at the incoming blade. With a clear metallic sound, both weapons clashed, Kirrah ending up the worst of the two as she had to take a whole step back, letting go of her handhold, and rummaging threw the air to grasp the next one.

The next few moves were more or less the same. The galdor withholding to use magic as the risk for a backlash was too high in an already unsteady battle, and instead slowly pressing his martial advantage to force Kirrah to withdrew until she would ultimately get stuck, trapped like a rabbit waiting for the blade.

Unlike what his opponent thought, though, Kirrah was backing very carefully, slowly taking her opponent away from the commanding area where a weakened Uzoji and their pilot were. She needed to delay. Even if it cost her life, she couldn’t let the guy wreak havoc unopposed, at least she could draw him far away enough for the rest of the crew to manage something.

The man, getting annoyed by this scarred kitten that kept on eluding his blade, took a risk and jump forward, his free hand grapping Kirrah’s own hand, sticking her to her current handhold, his other one forcing his blade into a deadlock with Kirrah’s dagger.

– This was fun, but this ends here. Silas’s Viper head will fetch me a nice bounty.

Kirrah snored with disdain.

– If you dare to confront a Viper, stay clear of her fangs !

Hidden blade roll - Great SuccessShow
SidekickBOTAujourd’hui à 00:31
@Kirrah: 1d6 = (5) = 5

Her hidden blade surged, cutting the leather handhold and two of the pirate fingers in passing.

A gust of wind sent both of them, now without any grip, tumbling into the open air deck, sliding along the floor, both of then sinking their weapon into hardwood to slow down.



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Niccolette Ibutatu
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Joined: Thu Jul 11, 2019 11:41 pm
Topics: 38
Race: Galdor
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Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: moralhazard
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Wed Aug 21, 2019 12:37 pm

Evening, 25th Vortas, 2713
The Eqe Aqawe, Over the Tincta Basta
The galdor with his bloody lips was still descending towards them, in awkward, jerky motions; he didn’t seem to be in control of himself any longer, Niccolette noticed. Was he being lowered from the ship above?

Brailing and backlash took everyone differently. It depended on the castor’s overall relationship with the mona – their strength – the conversation – the spell. Sometimes there were more dramatic physical effects; often not. Generally, there was a certain weakness, a certain wooziness, but – not always. It was hard to count on brailing doing much beyond incapacitating the other caster. That said, Niccolette thought coolly, that was usually enough.

A gust of wind rocked the ship; Niccolette held firm to her handhold, and noted, pleased, that the sideways shift of the wind had knocked the descending galdor away. Whatever he had been trying in the air was over; the movement of his rope had stopped as well, and he dangled distant over the water. Slowly – slowly – someone in his ship must have gotten the message, because they began to wind him back up, his half-limp body jerking like a ragdoll.

Niccolette glanced sideways at Kirrah. She seemed, Niccolette thought, to be doing fine. There was not, in the galdor’s estimation, any need to intervene. Niccolette kept one eye on the fight – kept her body firmly between the tall, blade-wielding galdor and the door – and shifted around, doing her best to get a look at Aremu at the top of the balloon.

The wind was numbing her hands; it whipped her hair loose, casting streams of it across her face. Niccolette inhaled, and began to cast, murmuring to herself, her eyes locked on the distant figures above – Aremu, close to the claw now, where she had sent him, with his feet wedged into the chain link casing and his hands busy with the claw. The pirate Niccolette had shot in the shoulder was descending towards him still, dropping fast now. Moonlight glinted off the heavy blade slowly lifting over his head - Niccolette could trace his path in her mind, could see how he meant to use the force of his descent to cleave Aremu apart.

She could not, Niccolette knew, be sure of shooting him from here – not as she was. She continued to cast, the heavy syllables of monite winding through the air. She could already feel the adrenaline spell beginning to work – in her hands, first, the stiffness fading, and then throughout, seeping into her – warming her, making it easier to focus, making her vision sharper –

There were many types of adrenaline spells. The body could be brought to do a great many things; there were simple bristle spells, which provoked a quick, harmless fight or flight response. There were adrenaline spells that could keep the body going beyond exhaustion for hours. There were those that provided a quick, short burst – for a moment when one needed to be precise.

Anything more involved than a simple bristle, of course, came with downsides. Most adrenaline spells, quite simply, borrowed from the body’s future potential. A long cast spell could leave the target in a deep, nearly comatose sleep for two or three times longer than they had stayed awake, and there was almost no controlling when the onset of it began – a sort of borrowing against that future energy. A short burst spell didn’t have such severe results, but once the spell was cast, there was, similarly, almost a countdown – until the adrenaline would drain away, until one would be left weak and shaking.

Niccolette curled the spell, and her countdown began.

For now, at least, she felt incredible; blood was surging through her veins, pumping fast and hard. The Bastian tilted her head back, inhaled – lifted her pistol, gripping the link that held her to the wall, sighted, and pulled the trigger.

This time, the bullet ripped squarely through the would-be-boarder’s chest. He jerked – slumped, in his harness. His sword tumbled from his hand, bouncing off the chain link and whirling away towards the ocean below. Dead? Niccolette could not tell - but, she thought, he was certainly no threat.

Aremu had never looked up. He pulled back, now – the claw released, and the Eqe Aqawe dropped, sharply, jerking free of the enemy’s attack. Aremu was scrambling back down the side of the balloon now, faster even than he’d taken the ladder, soaring over the arc of it and heading towards the deck below.

Niccolette inhaled – exhaled. Not yet, she promised herself, flexing her hands, still feeling the pulsing, surging energy of adrenaline through her – and the faintest beginnings of numbness, tingling in her fingers. She put the gun away; it wouldn’t do to drop it. Not yet. She needed to hold out a little longer – she just needed Kirrah to finish up whatever it was the passive was playing at.

Image
Rolls
Self-cast adrenaline spell: SidekickBOTToday at 9:12 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (5) = 5
Shot at descending pirate: SidekickBOTToday at 9:20 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (4) = 4
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Kirrah
Posts: 37
Joined: Sat Aug 03, 2019 5:23 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Passive
Location: France
: The viper
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
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Wed Aug 21, 2019 3:34 pm

Somewhere between the begining and the end of times
Image
Kirrah was the first to stand up, advantage of having two working hand at the moment, yet the pirate gritted through his pain and jumped up with agility. The passive tried to reach for the next wall to catch a safety handhold. But the pirate jumped between her and her objective. His left hand being ruined, he was at too much of a disadvantage if they were to resume their previous fight dynamic, as only one of them would have a correct anchor to the airship.

Kirrah understood what he wanted to do and felt her stomach fall: Fighting without any anchor on the open deck was tantamount to suicide. She gritted her teeth, and drew her second dagger: At least, she had a fair chance in the fight now, benefiting of her two hand when her opponent was mutilated and bleeding at an alarming right despite having pressed his hand into a fist to slow down the hemorrhage.

Both opponents resumed the fight, though this time it was comically clumsy, and yet at the same time just as risky.

The slight roll of the boat screwed with their balance, even if the pirate still was a bit more used than the passive with her meager few hours of flight under her belt.

Another strong wind sent them, once again, to the ground. Kirrah hit her shoulder and grunted, but stood up as fast as she could, resuming a fighting stance.

While she once was bidding for time, this new crazy duel got her on the clock, as she wouldn’t know when a bigger air gust would send them both overboard.

Her opponent wasn’t way more confident, trying to shorten the duel, but knowing that he couldn’t let the passive bunker up in a defensive stance once she could grasp a handhold.

At this moment, Kirrah heard a crisp sound, coinciding with Aremu freeing the Eqe Aqawe from the hook.

Kirrah and the pirate said in unison:

- Shit.

– Shit.

The whole ground fled from their feet, effectively throwing them in the air in an extremely violent fashion.

Controlled flight: Great SuccessShow
SidekickBOTAujourd’hui à 20:23
@Kirrah: 1d6 = (5) = 5

Kirrah let go of her dagger, flying upward and grabbing a rail before the ship stabilized, which send her back crashing on the deck. She started scrambling for her weapon which were drifting on the deck, getting them just in time to block her opponent cleaving attack, but still got sent to the ground for the count, rolling a few meters before managing to stop herself.

The pirate rushed at her, but this time Kirrah finally felt the wind rising in her back, instead of facing the incoming attack, she drew a pouch and emptying the content in the air.

Chili Pepper power: Great SuccessShow
SidekickBOTAujourd’hui à 20:23
@Kirrah: 1d6 = (4) = 4


The super spicy chili powder, aided by the gust of wind, flew straight into the pirate, filling his eyes, nose, and mouth with the atrocious improvised weapon.

The pirate howled with pain, a cry that would be heard by the whole ship. He tried to scrub his eyes with his mutilated hand, only adding some blood to the mix and not improving it as all.

Kirrah charged at her incapacitated opponent.

Finishing blow : SuccessShow
SidekickBOTAujourd’hui à 21:25
@Kirrah: 1d6 = (3) = 3


Both her dagger found their mark, hitting him in two different vital point. The last move of desperation of the pirate grazed Kirrah though, causing a long cut along her arm. Nothing too mean, but enough to make her bleed abundantly. She gritted her teeth and tore the pirate tunic, bandaging her arm before walking back to the precious handholds. Her whole body ached, and her heart was still beat painfully fast, but she was alive.

She slowly walked back to Nicco and Aremu to see if they were down on their side.


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