Docruth

Ignored like always! What could the young man do about it? With a hearty chuckle he squished his feet back out on to the deck. Finding a young man shivering for his life in the corner, he tapped him by the shoulder shoving the extra weapons into his hand. “Come.Come. Now don’t be so scared we’ve been through worst!” he smiled at the sailor twirling his two guns in his hands.

They came like the endless waves that stroked their ship. With a crack from the gun one of the sea lubbers fell over not knowing what had hit him. After that another one fell, then another. Sure the crew was caught by surprise but they were the ones in control now. He whistled as the savage first mate cut through the monsters as if they were paper. He looked very enthusiastic about his job.

“At least you know we won’t be starving for days,” he chuckled kicking over a sea monster. They did look a little bit like a fish. “Do you think they’re edible?” Jesper asked his partner who made a disgusted face. The monkey probably was not the right person to ask.

“Captain are these thing edible?” he called as he placed a bullet through one of their heads while walking over to the captain who was speaking with their cute blonde mechanic.

"Aww, Cap'n! The show was just gettin' good!"

Jericho called down as the rest of the crew was forming on deck, even Madman John. The numbers were shaping up a bit nicer from the vantage point Jericho had on the mast, not to mention it was a hell of a spectacle to behold. Still, Jericho sighed with a breath of acceptance as he turned a look over to Sincaid.

"Damn with freezing my bits off up here. If the bastards mean to brawl, we've got the muscle."

...

"And I'm not letting Redcap ration off my drink."

Taking hold of a few tying lines, Jericho began his descent down from the mast, and towards the horde below. It wasn't the smartest choice of the night. In fact, the monsters were pretty intent to meet him halfway. Once again, a beast was ripping into the wood and clawing its way up. Just as it extended its razours hands, Jericho dropped. Releasing the rope, the rigger fell towards the monster from halfmast and knocked it loose.

Both bodies began hurtling down, the end result being Jericho smashing the creature under his heels against the solid deck with a sickening stomp. Jericho's legs buckled from under him as he hit the ground, but the monster suffered a worse fate; its head caving in under heel with a sickening noise and a comical squirt of...whatever these things are made of. Mostly blood, it looked. Stained from the knees down from the splatter, Jericho pulled himself back to his feet, glancing about with a grin.

“Have fun, handsome,” Richard cheerfully called after Jericho.

Alone, his expression soured. “Lords below, who makes their navigator fight?” He whinged, as he ran through his coat's many pockets. Half his stock was soaked through from the rain, and a good chunk of what was left was useless in the rain. He mixed the contents of three waterproofed pouches; copper dust, powdered pine resin, and dragon's breath. Splitting the mixture equally back into the bags, he stuck a slow fuse in two before tyeing them and kept the third in easy reach.

Marginally satisfied, he made his way back down the way he came, the rain causing him to nearly lose his grip several times before catching himself. One of the beasties climbed up the ratlines towards him, so he swung over the side brought his feet around and kicked it through a gap in the lines, causing it to tumble back into the sea. He let go of the ropes and dropped delicately to the deck only to slip on the wet boards, landing on his arse.

Another of the creatures was already hauling tail towards him. Richard rolled back onto his feet, at the same time, plucking a punk from his cuff and lighting it with his flint rings. He readied a handful of powder from his pocket. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he waited for the mer-thing to get closer.

When it was an arms reach away, Richard sprung forward, dipping between its outreached arms and blew the powder over the lit punk. A green flame erupted in the beast's face. Unfortunately, Richard had not taken momentum into consideration and the beast, now blind and gasping for air, rammed into him, pulling both of them to the deck in a tangle of limbs.

Pinning him to the floor, the thing tore at him with claws, it was all he could do to keep it from gouging him. He tried to headbutt it, but only managed to gash his forehead on its teeth.

“A little help, please?” he cried out.