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Welcome, me' hearties, to the Ruünian Sea ! All OOC must be posted in the OOC Thread, as well as all requests for joining. To all who have and those who will join, have a fun RP, following the normal Etiquette and my own rules, and generally, let's kick ass ! See you all around, eh ?

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The air was full of it, smoke; as splinters, droplets of blood, and other gore and shrapnel flew around in and out of it. The constant sound of shouting, screaming, cursing, and the clang of swords filled the ears of all those partaking in the battle. Locked side by side, it was now up to the crews of each ship to prove their superiority. Julian Mortflint stood at the stern of his ship, the Bloody Mariah, as he shot bolt after bolt from his crossbow, the steel-tipped shafts always finding a target, men falling under his rain of arrows.

All around him, men fought, as Deadbeard's skeletal laugh filled the dense air. The canons had now stopped, all would be decided by the powder and the sword. Those sounds, a constant "pop" and the incessant scraping of one blade against the other, was the most delightful sound that could grace Julian's senses, as another men's scream filled the air, soon hushed by the blood that surged out of his throat, victim of Deadbeard's uncanny aim.

They all fought to live, they all risked their lives for the booty they had to amass each day. The pirates of the Blood Mariah knew it full well, the constant risk of death, or prison, followed by death. To Mortflint, the burden of that menace had fallen off his shoulders long ago, now replaced by the pure sense of freedom, now that he knew death could be no worse than what he had endured at her hands all that time ago.

Another came up the stairway to him, cutlass drawn and rotten teeth showing through his feral snarl. One kick, followed by a spinning slam of his crossbow brought the man back to the bloodied deck below, as the Captain stashed his crossbow, pulling out his schiavona. leaping down from the wheel to the battle-filled deck.

Somehow, the fight had found its way on his ship, and he'd be damned if he was gonna let them win it too. Finding the first soul to free, he plunged his sword in the man's chest, as it burst out the other side, bloodied and soaked. Pulling it out, his locked with that of another man, the fool's smile leaving at once when he saw the face of the "man" he was facing. Showing his rotten teeth, Deadbeard smiled a smile of pure, bestial glee, before pushing the man's sword out of his way, and slashing at his exposed belly.

As the man's blood poured, Julian's undead eyes spotted his target, the captain, a richly dressed ponce with a well-groomed beard and a look of fear in his eyes. Pushing his way through the crowd of fighting sailors, Deadbeard finally found his way in front of him, broadsword pointed at him and the same fire inside his blood-shot eyes. "An awful capt'n you make, not fightin' with yer' men, lemme amend that, for yer' crews sake ..." his sentence ended with the sound of swords clashing, as Julian brought it down on the cowering captain. Scraping it against it, Mortflint brought his sword back to his side, following back with a sidelong slash, that his adversary barely parried.

A few passes later, and the pathetic excuse for a captain was against the railing of the ship, cheek bloodied and bruised, sword across the deck somewhere else, and a schiavona pointed at his bare throat. "Goodbye, lad; say hi to Death fer' me, won't ya' ?" And the steel plunged into the ponce's throat, blood flowing freely, staining the sword some more, as Deadbeard gazed back at the fight, his crew visibly winning. A cruel smile flashed on his bony features, as he went back towards the fray of it, booted feet hitting the wooden deck with a quick pace. It wasn't over yet, but it was won.

Slowly, the crew of the Bloody Mariah repelled the attack, the ennemies strewn across the deck of the ship, blood flowing through the straight lines separating each wooden board. The air was ever smokier, yet the screams of pain were scarser, and farther apart. The pirates were finding less and less men to kill, that boded ill for the other crew. In the fray of it stood Deadbeard, at one with this hectic environment, blade slashing into the chests and necks of petrified men, sailors falling underneath his rain of hits.

Their captain now dead, the ennemy was doomed to defeat, and Mortflint just made sure of it. Firing a shot in an oncoming man's head, he pivoted round a man, driving his schiavona through his back, before exchanging a few passes with an old sea-dog, the scum finally falling too. All those on deck were of Julian's crew, and just as the sun slowly sunk out of the sky, soon to reach a watery enclave, so too did the opponents fall to the ground, or into the water to feed the sharks of the Ruünian sea.

With one final, unholy shriek, the captain of the Blood Mariah drove his blade into the chest of the last ennemy, kicking him off the steel blade, as a thin stream of blood flew into the air. "Finish off the dying and squirming, then when that's done, loot the other ship. We blow her once that be done, no use to us, slower than this beauty." he said, caressing the railing of his beloved ship.

Booted feet stamping the deck, he sliced through the throats and skewered the bellies of the few sailors still alive on the bloodied deck. "Hmm ... Too bad, Olivayn, never were good with that axe ..." noted the captain grimly as he stepped over the corpse of a fallen deck-hand.

The others, under his command, performed the same grim task as him, slaying all those still left alive. Then, when that was done, they dragged or carried the corpses to the side, flinging the lifeless carcasses to the murky waters. And finally, with the aid of gangplanks and ropes, they made their way to the other side, resting next to the Mariah, as they pillaged it for anything and everything of value. Standing atop the crow's nest, Julian peered out at the sea, watching the sun slowly descend, as the sound of his crew ambling about both decks of the ships could be heard. They were a good crew, he trusted them to get proper riches, not worthless junk. That included pillaging food too.

Turning his skeletal head towards the sharp-shooter, Toby, Deadbeard let a smile purse his cracked jaws as he examined the boy. "Fine job yer' did, you've got one 'eck of an eye, Toby, too bad yer' tongue's as sharp as me' blade. In any case, yer' wounded, and we don't want ye dyin' on us, now do we ?" Julian said light-heartedly. Walking over to the boy, he grabbed him by the waist, hoisting him on his fleshy shoulder, and stashing his gun in the other, skeletal hand.

Then, climbing down the netting with unnatural ease, he deposited the boy on the deck. "Get yerself to the medic, and get that checked out, on the double !" and without even waiting for an answer, crossed the gangplank to the other ship. Just before crossing, Mortflint looked at Ri, and asked: "Is that the last of the loot, quartermaster ?" at her nod, he smiled, and made his way towards the firing range of the ship. Reaching it, he piled barrel upon barrel of gunpowder, before shouting out at the Bloody Mariah's crew: "Oy, get the ship outta here, I'm blowing the damn vessel, no use to us, and it's better than leaving her here !"

As the Mariah slowly left the side of the other boat, Deadbeard lit the long fuse, watching for an instant as the powder fizzed and smoked, following the dark line all the way to the barrels, where one hell of an explosion would ensue. Using a boarding rope, he swung to the other ship, his ship. Then, with the rest of the crew, waited for the fateful explosion.

"Gus already got the powder, you alcoholic swine; made 'imself useful, unlike you !" shouted Deadbeard, partly out of fun, partly out of exasperation. "Now then, she should go about ... NOW !" he shouted, just as the neighbouring vessel blew up in a pillar of flames, smoke and splinters, the shock rocking the Mariah too.

Bits of wood flew high up into the air, falling down like a hailstorm upon the water below, ripples traversing it everywhere as a huge pillar of water came crashing down from the air, splashing even the crew aboard the Blood Mariah. Smiling at the destructive sight, Julian watched all the splinters and boards fall into the water, some even skewering the corpses still floating in it, a grim sight indeed.

"Right, she won't be seen again ! he shouted, the lot of ye' get back to work, man the sails, we sail south again, you dogs. Come on, man yer' stations !" Finishing his