Of What the Dragon Dreamt

[Arcane_Snowman]

The Iza, a mighty vessel she is, shaped like the dragons of yore, she swims through the Wyrd, unperturbed and undisturbed by the powers of Everchange, imbued with one of the strongest reality shards yet to be found amongst the known Wyrd, the heart of Seytu an ancient dragon. It's captain Ta'ir, is a woman of draconic decent, hailing from a shard that none but she knows the location of, she possesses more willpower and stubbornness than should be reasonable in any person, but somehow she still manages to be a person towards whom the word like can be applied. For almost two Rhajezian centuries, the two have been traversing the great chasm, as both one of the finest Wyrd-Vessels and captains in the Chartered Coalition.

The last voyage of the Iza began on Rhajezed, the biggest Reality Shard in the Chartered Coalition, she took welcomed aboard her body a man from the Nudronian Mountains, an Envoy of the Lady, returning to his home after completing his, another a cartographer, a dwarf with mastery of the latent earth. And lastly a woman with mastery of the Wyrd, in as much as one can master it, a walker of the strange, who in turn has become stranger still. Like thousands upon thousands of times preceding this one, the Iza lumbered into motion, departing the Eighth circle of Rhajezed with that lumbering gait, reality pressing down upon it's magnificent structure. Once it breached the barrier, it unfurled it's true glory, wings beating into the chaos, heading for a destination without where or when.

But look at them now, the Iza crawling with filth from a thousand worlds and times, bringing only havoc in their wake. Ta'ir, proud Ta'ir, struggling in vain to keep her precious vessel intact, life slowly seeping from the many wounds inflicted upon her. Uncanny fires spreading all over the deck as the monsters of the Wyrd swarm through whatever gap allowed them entrance in the first place. Most of the Iza's small crew have already met their end, unable to protect their captain and ship from the incessant hordes. Still standing amidst the oncoming tide are three passengers

A flash erupts on the deck of the Iza, and for just a moment time all but stands still, and then he comes, a man from out of time standing face to face with the overwhelmed captain.

[weckar]

“Bruadar, hold on to the maps!”
Onir yells as he runs onto the deck. It had been hard enough getting up there. The passages of the ship had been filled with small creatures he had not been able to identify, though Bruadar had called out the names of some he recognized. Onir couldn’t care less, but was relieved by any sign that his friend was still alive.
To avoid surprise, Onir and Bruadar had been walking back-to-back whenever possible, keeping backs to the walls when not. Right now, however, Bruadar could not be allowed onto the deck and will need to protect himself below-decks.
Fighting in this situation is one thing Onir is not prepared for. A quick glance around the deck reveals that the creatures here are even more frightening than those he had seen earlier. He needs to turn the field of battle in his favor without damaging the ship more.
The area around Onir seems overrun with tainted, smoky troll-like creatures. Preparing to follow up with his favored Transmute Stone to Sand, he targets the biggest one in range and pulls out an ofuda:

“Flesh to Stone”

[BelGareth]

Jason looked at the steward with a hint of derision; he tried to hide it but plainly failed. The journey to this border reality shard was long and tiresome, but had allowed Jason the time to practice his Iaijutsu, he was no master but was still a sight to behold. He was thinking about his practice while talking to the young man tasked with escorting him to the Port towns edge, and the derision was not directed towards him, albeit he had no idea if it was or not.

They walked in silence and it was obvious his escort was nervous, having to escort someone who purportedly was more powerful than ten trolls, that’s at least what Marty had told him. Jason suddenly realized he was daydreaming and shook himself mentally, coming back to the situation at hand he sighed, seeing the tension between the young man and himself.

He knew it was an eventuality and sometimes reveled in it as he came to new shards to carry out his mission. Jason found himself wishing, that just once he would not be sent to destroy the Ladies enemies.

It is what it is Jason thought to himself.

Sighing again he continued to follow the young man.

He took him to the edge of the port town, from here Jason took off into the forest. His destination was the obsidian slave mines, his target was to be ‘removed’ from office. It was a simple affair, his target wasn’t even a challenge, once the slave master had been dispatched Jason systematically moved through the Squad leaders barracks, slicing necks every step or so. At light up, he was waiting for the young man to escort him back to the port.

The walk back was almost as edgy, the same young man acting as his escort seeing as the meeting was but a few grains of sand by the sand clock. Jason found himself itching for his weapon, it was a familiar feeling to him by now. He had seldom reason to draw the weapon for just means, except for practice, he had the urge to use his Kuputana, his blade.

Having taken leave to his room on the vessel Iza, Jason drew his weapon and moved through his Kupata’s, movements designed to maximize his leverage on the blade and thus the damage exerted through the force of slashing and minimize the movement required to said slashing. It was an art designed by Jason, a merge of a known Martial form the Diamond Mind and an almost unknown meditative stance. Jason had learned the later from a master on one of his trips and had taken it, changing it to fit his needs.

Several hours later Jason felt dismayed at the thought of having to put his Kuputana away, it was more than just a blade to him, it was part of his very essence, part of his being and he hated having to hide it from the world.

Smiling and shaking his head Jason you fool, no one thinks like that anymore
He slid the weapon in it’s sheathe waiting for the sound of the hilt to smack against the guard.

And then things went crazy.

[AmberVael]

Stillness is death.

When something stops, it ceases. If a man does not strive forward, he might as well not exist at all.

Until now, the vessel had been still, stagnating in its long flight. But now, there was life. There was movement. Xjia let her identity and life unfurl around her in response to the enemies raising arms against them. Her Wyrd Marks raise from her body, beautiful azure ribbons the width of a razor spreading from her arms and from her back like tattered wings. Mercilessly, these limbs shred flesh, bone, and stranger with absurd ease, bringing swift death to all who would dare raise a hand against the Wyrd-Walker.

Teeth bared in a wild grin, screaming an exultant war cry, Xjia tears through endless hordes, blue flames streaming behind her as she pushes towards the captain. When too many are arrayed against her, the flames simply die, and Xjia with them- only to reignite closer to her goal, bursting out in a whirlwind of death. Leaping, flying, and vanishing, Xjia inexorably pushes forward, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.

"I have cast my body into a thousand unshaped worlds and returned, what are you to trouble me? With my eyes I have seen the end and birth of all creation- how can you compare?" She demands of her wyrd born foes with mad glee as she takes them apart.

"Ta'ir! Hold fast!" One last push is all she needs to reach the captain. Her Wyrd Marks spread wide, an invitation to death for anyone who would stand in her path.

[Bushwhacked]

The air on the ship tears with thunderous applause as Nikaya's form steps out on what, to his best guess, could be called the foredeck. "Giants be dammed, where the hell am I?" He asks himself aloud.

Swinging his head about and drawing his weapon from behind his back he quickly realises he's not alone. All of the sailors have weapons drawn and A scaled woman is looking directly down at him from the wheel. She was under attack and didn't seem to be doing so well up there.

"You must fight or perish, your a stranger here, fight for the crew else they think you one of the monsters."

"What monst...?" He almost manages to ask before he sees strange creatures coalescing from nothing as a hypnotic light flowed across the edge of the 'ship'. They seemed familiar in a way, one looking like an elf who's limbs were impossibly long, another like a malformed displacer beast, it's over-numerous tentacles ending in heads with forked tongues.

"Right! Those monsters." He casts a haste spell on himself and the crew nearby, a spell so familiar to him that it takes just a split second, and his whole form becomes a blur. The charge he makes towards the displacer-thing looks as though he is walking the whole length of the deck at the same time. In a blink he barrels down on the beast with 3 swift and precise strikes from his glaive, first lopping off one of it's extended heads, the second a swipe along it's torso and the driving his weapon into the wound he'd just opened to the centre of the creature's chest.

He hesitates, the beast writing and dying on the floor, his own speed had surprised him. No matter how much he had studied his haste spell in the past it didn't have that effect on him. Where the hells was he, what had been done to him, and where were his men!

"Now is not the time to question, embrace this new speed, look to the elf-thing, FIGHT!"

The elf-thing's neck was getting longer and longer, and it's face was coming for him, there seemed to be the glow of something magic forming in it's mouth that he didn't like the look of. He focused, picturing the attack he was about to perform to it's last detail. The elf thing started to scream that Nikaya heard as a low long tone, time was thinning so much now.

The spark came and he struck, the glaive came barrelling forwards deflecting the fire breath coming from the creatures mouth as it fought against it. As the blade of the weapon tore into the creature's jaw and started tearing toward the back of it's neck he angled the blade upwards. The top of the things head flew past his ear and the neck and lower jaw twanged like a piece of string before falling to the ground.

[BelGareth]

Jason’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows raised,
“How curious” He spoke aloud, to himself.

A sudden jerk had caught the ship as it moved, it wasn’t enough to affect your balance, more a slight hiccup. That in and of itself was not the interesting part, what was interesting was the dwarf-dear thing that was looking at him with twelve dozen eyes. It was an amalgam of writhing eyelids and flensed skinless muscle, viscera dripped from its frame and drool oozed from its many colored eyes. It regarded Jason with the fascination only a many eyed creature could, it suddenly lurched forward, a many tongued tongue exiting a muscular sphincter gliding through the air seemingly aimed for Jason.

It took only a moment to draw, slice and sheathe his blade.

Looking down he saw the creature, or the raw creation of chaos, its body heaving in convulsions from the sudden shock of being cut in twain and smiled at the feeling of using his blade again.

Moving to the door of his cabin he peered down the hallway. More creatures appeared from nothing, even more bizarre than before. This time he saw a Rock with fins, and eight gnome sized legs trundling towards him, further down a mouth of razor fin wooden pikes floating on a whirlpool of air.

“Curiouser and curiouser…” he spoke again, his surprise at the situation overcoming his speech.
Two more moments and he was passed them, moving towards the upper deck.

Managing to find the way to the main deck, passing several more chaotic-raw creatures, Jason moved onto the deck sword in hand looking over the scene that was laid out before him. And then it dawned on him, the ship was in trouble, the raw creation of the Everchange was pushing itself into their reality bubble. Jason smiled again, knowing he would be using his blade for something other than murder.

“Well time to earn my passage, so to speak.”

[Arcane_Snowman]

A loud hum fills the air, reverberating through every part of the ship, like the songs of the whales who are never more, but deeper, angrier. A limb shoots out from the nothingness impaling the stout Wyrd-Vessel and boring into it's flesh, the limb is thicker than a grown tree trunk, and longer still. A mass of gnashing teeth begin feasting upon the hull, while others chatter in incessantly ecstasy, eyes filled with a pure expression of gluttony regard the strangers from every angle. Tentacles sprout from this trunk, like the roots of plant, seeking everything within reach, grabbing, pulling, chewing, crushing, devouring. Another trunk from within the bowels of the Iza, snaking it's way around the hull before following it's kin's example.

”Hold steady!” yells the captain, trying to force her Vessel into movement, but nothing. It should not be possible, but whatever those limbs are, they are holding the ship in place, far off in the deep chaos a pair of orbs become apparent, each as massive as the Iza itself. They can not be called eyes, for within them are thousands of faces of all shapes and sizes, melding together in their agony into a single pair orbs, or perhaps there is just one, it's impossible to tell. The hum fills the air again.

[Bushwhacked]

With his two immediate foes slain Nikaya looked at his options as the battle unfolded about him. The captain was in peril but the ship was being torn apart. He looked at the abyss outside and doubted very much he would be able to survive that without this vessel, so he needed to stop that, now.

Attack it at his source had to be the best option, it was behaving like a plant so he guessed that it was drawing it's energy to 'grow' from where it originated. The thing is so massive he figures that it wont take mere seconds to slice it open so instead he opts to first slow it's progress.

His hands move with practised accuracy before he breaths a stream of ice crystals at the trunk, spreading from his mouth in a wave the cover a small section of it piercing it's flesh and freezing the dripping saliva from the horrible mouths that covered it.

Grabbing one of the many chains of beads that adorn his person he intoned "Tretsu, illforec-maniach." and they sprang forwards, growing and circling the trunk before setting as hard as iron.

[weckar]

Onir runs around the deck, using his powers to stabilize the ships construction as much as he can. To no avail. The damage is getting worse. The creatures around him, while easily defeated, are strong in numbers. Strange, they seem almost unreal. Not to worry about that now though. Safety needs considering.
Suddenly, the... things in the Wyrd start catching his eye. They are rather mesmerizing. Try as he might to resist, Onir loses his focus and is knocked out by someone, or something, behind him. As he drifts into the darkness, he hears that whatever did this to him already ran to another target. These creatures know no logic.

[Arcane_Snowman]

The creature lets out another one of it's deep hums, but this time it's accompanied by numerous wails from mouths around the trunks as it struggles against the magical chains, which don't hold long as the mouths seemingly can devour even magic. ”Get that damn thing off my ship!” Yells the captain as the creature once again begins it's consumption of the hull.

[BelGareth]

Seeing the deck as a maelstrom of chaos and getting worse by the second, Jason decides to slice down as many of these malformed creature things as he can.

And then the giant tentacle-thing reaches down and starts tearing at the ship, hearing the captain scream he decides to divert his attention to the strange appendage.

What in the nine hell's is going on? But he knew that his only hope was to save the captain and heed her advice, she was the one who kept this ship afloat. She was not expendable.

Moving as fast as he could towards the closest limb Jason starts slashing with all his might against the mouths thereon, slashing and cutting tongues off, slicing through cheeks and clattering against teeth. The sound of pure and unadulterated combat rang true in Jason's ears and he found himself genuinely smiling for the first time in a while.

[Bushwhacked]

OOC: I'm going to place myself in I6 then, as I said he appeared below the captain and he would have been moving towards her until the tentacle appeared.

Looking shocked for a moment that his spell had just flat-out failed Nikaya decides to take drastic action. Taking rigorous posture once again he recites the words that previously cast haste on him earlier, but the power that came from his recitation this time seemed to be magnified at least twofold. All that Nikaya could see slowly darker and a chill crept up his spine as the very light and heat that seemed so reliable a moment ago slowed it's advance on his body.

To the rest he became a positive blur, his weapon was moving so fast it was near impossible to glance as he laid down attack after attack. He had gained a sudden insight as was preparing to finish this thing as quickly as he could muster. By making experimental touches with his weapon against the surface of the creature he was able to gain some knowledge of where and how to strike, planning his final 3 attacks down to the last detail.

When, after some 20 or so experimental taps, he finally let loose with all of his strength. First slicing a section of the mouths away from the skin, he then drove his glaive deep into it's writhing flesh. He pulled the weapon out horizontally in a scything motion, slicing it along it's length and splitting it for a good measure in feet.

[BelGareth]

Seeing no hope in sight, Jason summoned his inner chi, he would have to have perfect form to pull this off and stay alive.

centering himself, each slash of his blade a moment of clarity pulling himself closer to the goal at hand, like small stepping stones for him to leap upon he launched himself into a barrage of attacks, his blade coming down as many, like an avalanche of steel.

Moving quicker than the eye he focused his steeled center, he had the moment he so desired, unleashing the fury of his mastered art he lets fly more accurate attacks, each one designed to render and cut a gibbering mouth on the tentacle thing. Slash, cut, swipe, his movement was a mere blur and his alacrity a testament to his enduring physical condition.