Eleven

Six Fathoms Deep ((Ask for invite))

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Zolkor's smile faded as the Bear seemed unfazed by the attack. He sighs as the beast charged toward him and ready his Rune Weapon for a parry. To his surprise the bear swiped at his legs , but he was able to avoid a direct swipe. He had been nicked at the shins causing a little bit of flesh to swipe off. In reflex he swung the mace over his head to crush the bear into the ground. "Big mistake!" He yelled.

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Cyllos glared at the Behemoth holding his sword upwards trying to sense the creature's next attack. Thinking he had waited long enough, he charged at the beast shooting an exorcism towards its face as he runs at the monster. Hopefully distracting the beast he charged up his blade with the light and launched himself at its legs. He swung in a full 360 degrees shouting , "Die!"

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Almost as if by instinct, Amalil sidesteps the attack. The mace thudding hard into the deck just barely missing the bears head. The bear takes a few steps back, staying outside of weapon distance but close enough to attempt to interrupt another spell. The eyes of the bear carefully study the Death Knight as it snarls. On the inside Amalil is still fighting to remain dominant over the feral thoughts and instincts of the bear, which is screaming to charge and maul and shred into its prey. "No, I'm still in control here." Amalil thinks to himself, as he quickly casts an old trick he learned from his early days of training. The skin underneath the bears thick fur begins to harden, taking on the strength and consistency of thick bark. It's not much, and it wont last for long, but it would certainly be a deciding factor between a broken rib or internal damage.

Finally, the bear springs forward again. This time pushing with his powerful hind legs and jumping, putting all his weight into an attempt to take down the Death Knight.

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Tuuro couldn't let Reroma's demise get to him, else the rest of the crew, if not all of Azeroth, would pay the consequences of his hesitation.

Using a well-practiced combination of blinks, teleportations, and invisibility spells, Tuuroto made his way to a lone glacier in the shores of Icecrown that overlooked the warring ships. Gritting his teeth, he made a leap of faith onto the edge of the glacier and clamored his way up the footholds like a mountain climber. To his dismay, a unexpected gust of arctic wind blasted on his face, causing him to lose his grip…

“Alter Time!” the Draenei shouted instinctively as he was plummeting back first towards the sea.

Right before he was about to make contact with frostbite inducing waters, the time manipulating incantation placed the Draenei back onto the glacier’s edge, allowing him to successfully reach the summit.

Though he was out of breath and his face was red from the cold, he did not waste any time. He threw to the ground the burlap sack that was slung over his shoulder, dumping a meter tall mound of odd trinkets, colored dusts, shiny crystals, bones, feathers, dead rats, and other reagents that the average person would consider as garbage. Then, he began hastily digging his hooves along the outer edge of the glacier’s surface as he started shouting, almost screaming, a tarot-inspired incantation.

“Potential of ze Fool,

Determination of ze Magician,

Intuition of ze High Priest,

Nurture of ze Empress

Leadership of ze Emperor…”

From afar, one could not ignore the large circle that Tuuroto etched onto the glacier. Maintaining his haste, he then started etching several lines, markings, and symbols inside the perimeter of the circle, occasionally stopping to gingerly place and tweak various artifacts in specific areas in the circle. He did so without hesitation, as if he had used the two week voyage to commit the rune design to memory.

‘Order of ze Heirophant,

Bonds of the ze Lovers,

Mastery of ze Chariot,

Subtlety of ze Strength,

Wisdom of ze Hermit,”

SNAP!!!

Tuuroto howled in pain as half of his right hoof splintered from the etching process. A gush of crimson sprayed forth from Tuuroto’s broken hoof, the sudden sharp pain causing him to instantly fall to his knees. He could hardly keep his eyes open from the excruciating agony, his mind nearly paralyzed from imagining the other half of his hoof still lodged in the ice nearby. Forcing his eyes open, he looked out to the Nigel’s Fury, but he soon realized that he was too far to ask for aid from his comrades. He needed to continue with the plan. There was no other option.

Tuuroto frantically looked around, suddenly eyeing the burlap sack of reagents that he put down on the other side of the glacier. With every ounce of his strength, he clawed his way across the glacier, dragging his tired, heavy body and his severely splintered hoof that continued to spew blood nonstop. Finally reaching the burlap sack, he emptied all of its contents on the ground but found nothing useful. Giving up, he turned to his arms and began ripping off several pieces of cloth from the sleeves of his Kirin Tor robe. He tightly wrapped one piece around his injured hoof in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

After seeing his injury secured, he paused for a moment to regain his composure. He dared not look back at the battlefield, for he feared that he would be distracted if he saw a fellow Redblade in peril. He knew well that his compassion for his Redblade comrades would be his weakness: the flaw that Altherion would exploit to prevent Tuuro from doing what was necessary for victory. Thus, Tuuroto knew from the very beginning that, for the safety of everyone, he needed to carry out his plan alone.

Taking a few seconds to catch his breath and clear his mind, Tuuroto used his arms to push himself to his feet, his adrenaline allowing him to keep his balance and continue on with his plan. He began to speak again:

“Destiny of ze Vheel of Fortune,

Equality of ze Justice,

Sacrifice of ze Hanged Man,

Metamorphosis of ze Death,

Balance of ze Temperance,”

With a limp, Tuuroto started backtracking in the ritual, for the blood that spewed from his splintered hoof had contaminated the rune design. At each stain of blood on the icy glacier surface, the Draenei would spit onto an extra piece of ripped cloth from his robe, desperately praying that it would be enough to wipe away the blood. By the time he had finished, Tuuroto became weak from dehydration and his garments were as tattered as a homeless man’s. Regardless, he made his way to the center of the circle and continued the incantation.

“Enslavement of ze Devil,

Destruction of ze Tower,

Serenity of ze Star,

Mystery of ze Moon,

Hope of ze Sun,”

Tuuroto stood lopsided, for any pressure he put on his injured hoof would result in a sharp, mind-numbing spike to his brain. Instead of that pain, he was more worried that unnecessary movement would undo his efforts by causing more blood from his bandaged hoof to drip onto the glacier. Tuuroto shook his head. He wanted to curse from the pain, but he knew well that any other word that is uttered would affect the stability of the ritual.

“Karma of ze Judgment,

Wholeness of ze Vorld.”

It was now or never, Tuuroto thought. He lifted his right hand and turned his sight towards the battlefield where his Redblade comrades were.

“ARCANA…OPEN!”

A brilliant explosion of white light erupted from the glacier, the sudden brightness capable of making a mortal with weak constitution enter an epileptic fit. After a sound barrier breaking delay, a loud high-pitched screech pierced though the air. At this point, it would impossible to not notice Tuuroto now.

There on the glacier where Tuuroto stood was an enormous portal with a diameter equaling the height of a typical lighthouse. The portal was likely to be the largest anyone present had ever seen, besides the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands. The base of the portal had giant bolts of live electricity that siphoned mana from the now illuminated rune circle that Tuuroto etched onto the entire glacier surface. One bolt was directed towards Tuuroto’s right hand: its uplifted position indicating that he needed to channel the spell in order to keep the portal up.

Smirking for the first time since the battle started, Tuuroto uttered,

“Altherion… you lose… dah…”

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*Meanwhile*

The Nigel’s Fury rocked from the raging sea and the explosions of the battlefield, causing the door to Admiral Tuuroto’s chamber to fully swing open.

Inside, the room was lined with shelves and desks that were now bare, though one could assume that it was previously chock filled with all the reagents Tuuroto needed to test and create his portal. However, two books remained in plain sight on the Admiral’s bed.

One book had a black leather cover with the Redblade Corsairs’ old logo on it: http://wow-tng.org/showthread.php?22325-Redblade-Corsair-Captain%92s-Logbook&p=407362#post407362

… while the other was a large purple tome that bore the insignia of the Kirin Tor: http://www.wowwiki.com/Thinking_with_Portals_-_A_Memorandum_on_Proper_Portal_Usage

Anyone who bothered to read the latter book would notice that Rule #1 was highlighted in red, perhaps by Tuuroto himself...

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Vennthros had shielded himself from the blast of the grenade with his rifle and his arms, and time seemed to slow as he saw the over-excited geist flying toward him. Any working muscles left around his ruined mouth would have twisted, giving a crude impersonation of a smile as the Ranger's mind flashed over his opinion of Jitters. He had always hated the geist, with its disgusting drool and absolutely stupid speech. Now he had the chance to enact all his vicious day dreams on the thing. Even if his gun had been useful at such close range, Vennathros already knew that the rifle was ruined. But that was irrelevant. He reached for a pair of curved knives at his waist, his hands flexing in anticipation at dismembering the geist.

His mechanical eyes began to beep a harsh warning at him as they detected the power build-up from Tuuroto's spell, but Vennathros was distracted. When he had brought his knives up to counter the geist's leap, only one knife had entered his field of vision! Momentarily stunned by the loss of an arm, his distraction was only amplified by the now deafening warning of arcane power build-up nearby. All that protected the Ranger was a numbly-held knife, and a canopy of webs-- Neither would be terribly effective against the geist, or whatever the fel it was that the Draenei was planning.

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Evellin slammed her gauntlet into the face of a doubled-over enemy, following it up with a quick thrust of her cutlass; she would have preferred to fight with her broadsword, but the smaller, nimbler blade was more suitable for close quarter combat aboard a ship.

Already she sported dented plate armor and a fresh cut above her eye that would have been gushing blood had she been alive. She considered going to the hold and ordering the gunners to fire upon the guns of the other ship, but it would be too late to change anything now. She looked to the side. The bear was busy fighting one of her own kind, and so she fell in line beside him, keeping stray Kvaldir at bay with fist and cutlass. Even if this wasn't a team she wanted, it was a team she was stuck with, and teamwork was the only way to keep them all alive.

Then came the light.

Evellin saw the strange, looming figures of the Kvaldir, imprinted in her vision behind the blinding light. Robbed of her most important and functional sense, the Death Knight brought her arms up in front of her and swung, trying to keep any enemies at bay as her eyes adjusted once more, only for her ears to meet a deafening screech.

She looked to the glacier, seeing Tuuroto, and wondering how he'd reached such a spot. It was quickly followed by the mounting frustration that the leadership, both male Draenei, had abandoned their ship to die.

Whatever Tuuroto had in store, the ship was still a vital tool, and she'd be damned if she saw it fall.

With only a moment's hesitation, perhaps to offer silent apology, the Death Knight cut down one more Kvaldir and stepped away with her back to a mast. "You're not the only necromancer here," she muttered, as her hands began to glow a soft violet. Tendrils shot out around the ship, seeking out dead vessels, friend and foe alike, to reanimate. With a shudder and groan they rose to their feet and looked upon their new master for orders.

Evellin leaned against the mast, worn from the generally untouched ability; she hated robbing these people of their agency, but this was a dire situation. "The enemy has boarded. Kill them, guard the ship. Guard the ship from water, bail it out if you must, and do not harm this crew. Defend them!" She waved two of the reanimated corpses over, motioning to Rhysta. "Defend the healer of the living. Defend this ship!"

The Death Knight prepared her cutlass once more, and prayed that Tuuroto knew what he was doing.

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Zolkor grins at the bear and Froze him into place. He was getting a hang of his new powers, but there was trouble brewin. As he saw the white light that the Draenei had summoned he knew he had found his target. The Druids began to free himself from the ice as he glanced off into the distance, "I hope you don't mind , but I have other business to attend to. You may play with my friend though..."

In instinct the Draenei tried to summon his usual Guardian , to his surprise the Guardian did not show. A skeleton rose out of the ground from the depths of the ocean , and as he did his eyes flickered on with a glow gazing at its master.The Undead was large in comparison to most undead ghouls and had a Helmet ,shoulders,bracers, and boots. Zolkor Grinned in delight, "This is interesting, I think I shall call you...Caelunn..." The Skeleton nods at his master , Zolkor points towards to the Bear who now broke free of his restraints. "Kill him and anyone that gets in your way." He turns from from the towards the edge of the ship and lands onto the water as if the ocean froze beneath his feet. He gradually walks on towards the glacier where Turroto now lay.

The skeleton , who would now be called Caelunn cracked his neck as he pulls out his broadsword , he points the sword at the bear. "By the will of my master...You shall perish." He said with a rattling raspy voice.

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The sudden cold sent a shock through Amalil's system, and the loss of concentration only seemed to push his thoughts further down and bring the feral thoughts up. The bear struggled with all its might to shake free of the ice. Finally he broke through the ice, just in time to see the skeleton rise up before him. Amalil's eyes filled with rage and frustration. He was sick of the magic and tricks thrown at him. The bear wanted a fight, and by Elune he was going to make DAMN sure he got one from this skeleton.

This time, the bear moved back a few steps. Growling and trying to lure the undead towards him.

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Caelunn swings his blade over his shoulder making rattling noises of his bones as he moves. He cracks his neck staring at the beast observing its every features. The scars , the wounds, the weak points of its bone structure . All the fighting instincts he had learned in life were flowing back to him . This time though only one thought occurred,'Obey master's Order to the death.'

He began to circle around the beast as the Druid growled at him and danced along with his movements. 'This beast is no normal beast, it seems to bare intelligence.' After finishing his thought he stopped moving, the druid mimicking him. After a few minutes of staring down at him, he dashed at the Druid, dropping the blade and letting it drag behind him on the deck.

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Amalil watched the creature carefully, following its movements and waiting. He could sense that this undead was different, not just in the fact that it towered over the others, but also the aura it gave off. It was more powerful then the smaller ones on the enemy ship. "It dose not matter." Amalil thinks to himself "They will all perish. I'll see to it myself." Finally as it dashed forwards the bear let out a powerful roar, but stood its ground. Waiting until the last possible second before side stepping, bringing his paw around as he did to maul at the skeletons leg.

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'Now.' Caelunn thought to himself, as the bear's claws stuck into his leg bone, he was knocked into the ship railing managing to maintain his balance . His little dance with the bear got him into a position that gave him an advantage that suited him.The Skeleton warrior raised up his blade over his head, "Fool." He dropped the sword down over the bear to end his pitiful life.

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Amalil pulled hard, trying to ether yank the bone from the Skeleton or remove his paw but failed. The bear try'd to move as far from the blade as he could, but it wasn't far enough. He took a hit to his side and howled in pain, thankfully the spell hardening his skin protected him from a life threatening hit. Still, he would walk away with a nasty wound. If he walked away that is...

The sudden surge of pain just caused more adrenaline to pump through the beasts system, feral thoughts screamed through Amalil's mind. Combined with the pain from the strike he lost concentration, making his skin return to normal. Worse yet, Amalil could feel himself slipping and losing control to the beast. He sturggled to keep the balance inside himself but the bear wanted control, it wanted to ravage the undead infront of him and anything else in its way. As blood slowly seeped down his side, Amalils mind began to slip to the beast.

Filled with adrenaline and rage the bear yanked hard at the bone his claw was lodged in with new found strength.

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As the bear yanked his claw Caelunn's leg bone snapped off caushing him to kneel down hissing at the druid. He pulls himself up from the railings leaning on his sword. He raises his sword and smashes the railing shattering many pieces of wood allowing them to scatter on the deck. After he picks up a piece of it he attaches it to the now splintered bone . Making some adjustments the Skeleton stands up-right with the blade over his shoulder. He points at the Druid turning his hand over to wiggle his finger to signal him to come forward.

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Eleven raised its arms to block its face from Longdang's lightning, but it didn't help against the shock. The armor on its arms was scorched on impact, then the creature froze in place. Ripples of electricity coursed through its body, the effect multiplied by the metal in Eleven's mail armor. It tensed up to the point of losing the ability to move for the second. The lightning left as quickly as it came.

Once free to move again, Eleven was sluggish. It held a hand to its chest and growled at Longdang. Its other hand threw down a smoke bomb as it attempted to Shadowstep behind the shaman, but the aftereffects of the lightning kept it from fully entering the shadows. The bomb hissed and filled the area with a thick smoke that would be difficult to see or breathe in. Even despite this, Eleven moved closer to Longdang with a dagger drawn between them, trying to stay out of sight as it knew it may not last another direct hit.

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Amalil quickly charges forward straight at the skeleton, baring his teeth. He would seem different now, wilder then before. Amalil did his best to maintain control, but it was almost as if his thoughts had taken a back seat to that of the beast. At the last the bear pushes off hard against the deck, trying to catch the clumsy undead off guard, and aims a powerful bite against the skeletons forearm.

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Caelunn attempts to sidestep from the beast only to have his peg leg hit a crack launching himself away from the beast crashing into a few barrels of gun powder. He sits himself up as he sees the beast take a huge chunk out of the wood. Had he gotten a hold of his arm the battle would have ended.

He tries to scramble to get up , but the barrels and his lack of a real leg has him fumbling getting Gunpowder all over the Skeleton. The Druid shattered the remaining wood pieces in his mouth and made way towards the the Undead Warrior. He scoped his surroundings for anything he could use .

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Amalil spits the wood from his mouth, and notices the gunpowder covering the Skeleton. "Now's my chance!" Amalil thinks as he trys to shift back into his humanoid form. He had a spell in mind to ignite the gunpowder and set this abomination aflame. But try as he might, he fails. "No... Not now!" It was Amalils nightmare, the beast was taking over. He frantically thought back to his teachings but he couldn't concentrate, his mind taking a submissive role to the feral side of the bear. The bear thrived on blood lust and adrenaline, it wanted the fight. And now it was in control.

Pushing his advantage, and leaving a small trail of blood behind him, the bear roared firecly and rushed forward. It pounced on the Skeleton and attempted to maul at its relentlessly, swiping at its face in a flurry.

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Caelunn spots a flaming piece of Debris made from the cannon fire. As the bear launched at him, only one thought occured in his mind.'Obey Master's Order, to the death.' He grabbed the fire and tossed the flame at the barrels. Igniting the powder and engulfing the Skeleton in flames followed by an explosion.

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The explosions sends Amalil flying, slamming him hard against the railings of the ship. His ribs send a sharp pain through him, and as he falls his head slams into the ground hard. The bear attempts to stand, shaking as he does before falling again. He had finally taken to much, as his vision started to fade to black. He slumps against the ground with a loud grown as he blacks out, and if he could he would smile as he noticed the defeated skeleton engulfed in flames.

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Long watched as the Lightning struck home, but Eleven still stood. Suddenly he was surrounded in a thick smoke, losing sight of Eleven. He searched the smoke for any sign of movement of the creature. A flash of metal through the smoke catches Long's eye. He turns slightly and his eye begins to glow a fiery red. Long hold steady in the smoke, waiting for the creature's attack, a powerful spell waiting at his finger tips.

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Eleven circled around. It knew that the shaman could too easily recover from any minor wound it dealt. The situation called for a different approach. The dagger that gleamed through the smoke was coated in a poison - one that would enter his system even if Longdang could close his wounds.

Eleven leapt towards him and thrust its dagger in hopes it would sink into his flesh. It took a risk; the poison wouldn't set in before he could counter.

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Rhysta's chi eased the pain in Lixxel's legs enough so she could stand up to her full three feet, two inches and brush herself off. She smiled and sent a wink of thanks in the Draenei's direction. Lixx tried her best to avoid the combat happening around them and looked out to where she left Jitters.

Jitters violently flailed, tangling himself even more in the web. He began to sink in the webs. Something was tearing, but whether it was the webs or his own limbs, Jitters didn't seem to care. He finally broke free and tackled Vennathros straight on.

Lixxel jumped suddenly at the bright light coming from the glacier, thinking at first it was some spell coming her way. She turned to see-

"GIANT PORTAL WHAT THE FEL?!" Though, the Goblin didn't say fel. It took a moment to realize who was the culprit and what this portal meant, but once everything sunk in, she became very upset. The disruption in the ley lines! Space and time itself! The danger! The legality and liability!

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Longdang roared as a sudden pain erupted from his side, his spell temporarily forgotten. His eyes snapped down to see Eleven with a dagger buried almost three-quarters in ribs. He had been looking the wrong way. Long grabbed the creatures hand and released a desperate pulse of Lightning. Eleven is knocked back into the smoke, as Long falls to his knees. Longdang looks down to see the dagger still in his side. Long grips the dagger and pulls it from his ribs, roaring even louder in pain. He quickly summons a healing spell and heals the wound. Long notices the wound healed so much slower than usual, almost like his power was weakened. As the wound healed completely Long roared as his side pulse with pain. He tried to stand but fell to his knees as his side pulsed in pain again. "What ... What did you ... do to me?" Long asked as the smoke slowly began to clear around him.

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Vennathros was tackled to the cramped floor by Jitters, the geist's flailing movements knocking Vennathros' remaining limbs every which way. The shock of the tackle re-focused Venn's mind, bringing him back into the moment of the geist's assault. But Jitters had paused her assault, and was staring at the Ranger with a lustful gaze, drool dripping from her gaping maw. It quickly became apparent what had captured the thing's interest, as it retched out the word "Shiiiiiiiinnnyyyyy...", before slapping her wet tongue against Vennathros, dragging it across his mechanical parts.

With a mechanical growl, Vennathros twisted his neck, pinching the geist's tongue between the tubes the made up his throat. The geist moaned in surprise, jerking its head back in an attempt to backtrack from the position it found itself-- But not before Vennathros' remaining arm lashed out, slicing Jitters' vile tongue out of her mouth!

----

As the fires raged across the ship, different areas of the structure were rendered unstable. One misstep on Kaz'anet's part, and a section of flaming ceiling was brought down into the room that Cyllos and the behemoth were fighting in. The crash flared the flames that had come down, igniting the plague barrels! The blast would blow both the paladin and the construct far and clear of the boat, and possibly experiencing some issues regarding the plague that was within the barrels.

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