Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

[Sticks]

Moving like a candle in the wind, the Dancer steps lithely around the Thorn-Captain. His hulking form serves as a stable point for her to move about, anchoring herself in the fiery sea of chaos engulfing the gun-deck. She rolls sensuously over a clumsy strike from his weapon, her wrist giving a playful flick as it batters the artifact-blade away. She leaps over a frustrated kick, then falls in a controlled air-split to evade a flailing arm, rising up well within her enemy's guard. "You see, Captain, I don't need an invitation." She makes a shallow feinting thrust, then tosses her sword from her elegant right hand to her left. "I always get into the best parties, though I'll say you make for a poor host, and a mediocre partner in this dance." The blade is poised right over a gap in his armor, one wrong move, and the Thorn-Captain will be no more.

Spoiler: OOC & Rolls

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Dancer is stunting a Withering Attack with Searing Edge attack and 6m of Become The Hammer. As she is in Fire Dragon form, he takes onslaught penalties before the attack is rolled. If she deals any damage, he loses Essence (2) initiative in addition to whatever she does.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Attack: Base 15: (21d10)[9][7][3][3][5][9][7][5][3][4][5][4][7][10][10][5][8][4][5][7][2](122)
Damage: Base 10: (10d10)[9][8][9][5][5][10][8][8][9][8](79)

[Ascension]

The waters around the Islebreaker churn in the throes of the stricken construct's pain, but Rivers rides atop the choppy waves with fluid ease, in full communion with their aspect.

"You feel pain through that shell?" they observe, with an eager contempt. "Good. I... I have the feeling these fists were forged to teach titans pain."

They raise their right hand, enormous in its black jade gauntlet, in front of their face, and clench their fist.

"I'm glad the lesson won't be lost on you."

They pull their fist back, their anima swirling around them, gathering every single mote of essence they have to spare into a tight coil of energy, eager for release. A phantasmal crocodile, an ironic echo of Whisper's fighting form, coalesces around their chambered fist, jaws yawning wide, ready to taste the Islebreaker's stagnant viscera. A heartbeat passes.

"TAKE THIS!" Rivers roars, launching forward with the speed and inevitability of an onrushing tsunami. Their punch meets the Islebreaker head on, striking the center of its mass with thunderclap force. The ocean explodes beneath the dragon and the kraken, sending waves surging in every direction; the waters spill over the edge of the island fortress's docks, lapping at Nord's feet.

This is the Seven Aeons' Gauntlets' true power, a strike to fell colossi and sunder legions. Will it be enough?

Spoiler: OOC and Rolls

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Okay, I literally am putting everything Rivers has into this attack. Empyrean Focus (7m, 1wp), Become the Hammer (3m), and that's Rivers' entire mote pool tapped. I'll also spend another 1wp for an auto-success on the attack.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Attack: (14d10)[3][2][3][5][6][3][3][8][1][2][4][5][2][4](51)+1 success
Damage (capped at 7 levels of damage, but each level doubled [cap-breaking] by Empyrean Focus): (13d10)[10][9][8][6][10][6][7][10][1][9][7][6][3](92)
Rerolling 6s on damage until 6s cease to appear: (4d10)[1][9][2][3](15)

If this succeeds, the Islebreaker will also be knocked back a range band by Empyrean Focus.

[Inspector Valin]

Rivers' blow is worthy of ancient days - the Dragon Blood puts enough energy behind that blow to shatter the very tower that still looms above the battlefield. Simply feeling so much raw power within ones fist is exhilarating - this is a tide that could sweep the very heavens clean. Rivers ploughs forward, implacable their strike aimed right at the now vulnerable core of this corpse, faint traces of black ichor leaking into the ocean below. When he connects, this is all over, they'll have turned things around, the monstrosity will splinter and...

"No!" Lacroix shrieks, bringing down one of the Islebreaker's tentacles right on Rivers' forward blow. Soulsteel wails against jade at the ghost pushes his newfound extremity to the utmost, straining against the sheer fury of Rivers' fist, the very force of it pushing back the false Kraken amidst the turbulent waters of the isle. The soulsteel plates begin to fray and splinter, connective joints that hold them to the Islebreaker straining against the almighty impact. It seems for an agonizing moment as if the Dragon Blood will pull through despite this and land the blow...

But there is not time enough for Rivers to make it work. The block buys Lacroix the momentum he needs, the great Kraken pushes itself back, out of Rivers' immediate reach. The Islebreaker creaks and wheezes, reaching out with one of its tentacles towards the isle, resting against the tower for support. When it speaks again, the exertion and wear is clear in Lacroix's distorted voice. But so is the passion, the fury at the prospect of defeat being introduced to what should have been his final vindication.

"I endured Mishaka. I found success in the Mask's service. Death was not the end for me, so I refuse to fall to the likes of you!"

With that final word, one of the great tentacles rises high into the sky above Rivers. But instead of falling upon the Dragon, steam hisses as the strange partitions Rivers had observed in their study of the islebreaker click open. With a final blast of steam, a volley of great iron spikes, each perhaps the length of a forarm shoot forth from the monster's pseudo-limb - heading right for Rivers!

Spoiler

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Welcome to PHASE TWO! :D Because what's a good boss fight without phases, right?

This is Cruelty of Iron Cascade: a Decisive counterattack made against Rivers. Lacroix rolls 4 dice of decisive damage against you if he hits. And he gets bonus dice equal to the 1s in the attack roll. So... one. Just enough to cancel his wound penalty!

Spoiler: CoIC

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(12d10)[2][3][3][2][7][3][1][1][2][4][8][3](39) Attack
(4d10)[9][3][5][2](19) Damage

[Inspector Valin]

The Thorn Captain growls - his anger almost overpowering, but his rational mind holding just enough forbearance not to impale himself on the Dancer's blade without gain. His Guardsmen however are starting to lose their composure. Between the hailstorm of flaming debris and the spiraling flames themselves, Thornguard after Thornguard are knocked brutally to the floor. One brave Guardsman springs at the Dancer, hoping to take advantage of her focus on Madrigora. A nimble sidestep from the mistress of the blade however, and the Mask's luckless minion ploughs right by her, over the cannon and out of the side of the ship. His scream echoes as he plunges down towards the waters below.

The remaining guardsmen look bedraggled - they were the scant survivors of the battle in the tower, and now only a half dozen or so are left. But the Thornguard hold to the end - the enduring final few blades rush towards the Dancer, an oncoming circle of charging steel and hate-filled eyes. Whatever the odds, whatever the opposition, the Thornguard fight to the end.

Spoiler: OOC

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They can't hit the ghosts but the can go for Dancer.

Spoiler: Attack

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(12d10)[5][8][1][4][4][5][3][2][8][7][9][2](58) Attack
(13d10)[10][5][4][9][8][10][7][1][5][8][9][1][1](78) Damage

[HalfTangible]

Spoiler: Lacroix 1

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The eye closes as Nord's blades come down. The sensation of drawing his swords across the monster's skin is faintly sickening to the Lookshyan - even the thin layer of flesh covering the eye is leathery and tough. Still, his swords bite all the same and he can see the line they drew for just a second, before the monstrous pupil opens once again, looking the raging Solar right in the eyes.

"If I'm such a failure, Karal, what does that make you? Where's the Seventh Legion backing you up, the Gunzosha, the Sky Fleet?" The monster snorts, vents upon its core expelling great plumes of steam. "I have the trust of the Mask himself. Whereas your backwater band of barbarians cast you aside rather than accept you. Your words have all the bite of your blades, Sun-chosen."

Nord grit his teeth, and shame covered his face. Those words cut deep. Deeper than he wanted to admit.

Nord had failed to Exalt as a dragon, despite having everything advantage he could've asked for. He was loyal to Lookshy, but he'd also betrayed them in working with the Cult of the Illuminated. He hadn't been able to protect his brothers in the Cult. Hell, screaming his head off had been a mistake. This was why he tried to keep professional; he didn't think well when emotional. He'd been too chaotic, too raw and unfocused since seeing the ship go down. But clearly that wasn't working. He needed to calm down and fight like the Sacred Band ambusher he was.

"The Gunzosha are not needed to destroy you, nor the Sky Legion." He spread his arms wide. "Like you said, I am not worth anything to Lookshy. Yet you have been unable to injure me or the other Dragons here even slightly; the only things you have managed to hurt are mortal men and women."

"On that topic..." He growled, taking a step back. He brought both swords to his sides, taking an old stance he rarely made use of these days. "You can say whatever you want about me, and you'd probably be right. But you will not insult these blades."

Spoiler: Rivers and Lacroix 2

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The waters around the Islebreaker churn in the throes of the stricken construct's pain, but Rivers rides atop the choppy waves with fluid ease, in full communion with their aspect.

"You feel pain through that shell?" they observe, with an eager contempt. "Good. I... I have the feeling these fists were forged to teach titans pain."

They raise their right hand, enormous in its black jade gauntlet, in front of their face, and clench their fist.

"I'm glad the lesson won't be lost on you."

They pull their fist back, their anima swirling around them, gathering every single mote of essence they have to spare into a tight coil of energy, eager for release. A phantasmal crocodile, an ironic echo of Whisper's fighting form, coalesces around their chambered fist, jaws yawning wide, ready to taste the Islebreaker's stagnant viscera. A heartbeat passes.

"TAKE THIS!" Rivers roars, launching forward with the speed and inevitability of an onrushing tsunami. Their punch meets the Islebreaker head on, striking the center of its mass with thunderclap force. The ocean explodes beneath the dragon and the kraken, sending waves surging in every direction; the waters spill over the edge of the island fortress's docks, lapping at Nord's feet.

This is the Seven Aeons' Gauntlets' true power, a strike to fell colossi and sunder legions. Will it be enough?

Rivers' blow is worthy of ancient days - the Dragon Blood puts enough energy behind that blow to shatter the very tower that still looms above the battlefield. Simply feeling so much raw power within ones fist is exhilarating - this is a tide that could sweep the very heavens clean. Rivers ploughs forward, implacable their strike aimed right at the now vulnerable core of this corpse, faint traces of black ichor leaking into the ocean below. When he connects, this is all over, they'll have turned things around, the monstrosity will splinter and...

"No!" Lacroix shrieks, bringing down one of the Islebreaker's tentacles right on Rivers' forward blow. Soulsteel wails against jade at the ghost pushes his newfound extremity to the utmost, straining against the sheer fury of Rivers' fist, the very force of it pushing back the false Kraken amidst the turbulent waters of the isle. The soulsteel plates begin to fray and splinter, connective joints that hold them to the Islebreaker straining against the almighty impact. It seems for an agonizing moment as if the Dragon Blood will pull through despite this and land the blow...

But there is not time enough for Rivers to make it work. The block buys Lacroix the momentum he needs, the great Kraken pushes itself back, out of Rivers' immediate reach. The Islebreaker creaks and wheezes, reaching out with one of its tentacles towards the isle, resting against the tower for support. When it speaks again, the exhersion and wear is clear in Lacroix's distorted voice. But so is the passion, the fury at the prospect of defeat being introduced to what should have been his final vindication.

"I endured Mahanka. I found success in the Mask's service. Death was not the end for me, so I refuse to fall to the likes of you!"

With that final word, one of the great tentacles rises high into the sky above Rivers. But instead of falling upon the Dragon, steam hisses as the strange partitions Rivers had observed in their study of the islebreaker click open. With a final blast of steam, a volley of great iron spikes, each perhaps the length of a forarm shoot forth from the monster's pseudo-limb - heading right for Rivers!

Not for the first time (in this battle or his life) Nord was glad the dragon was on his side. The kraken's return attack was impressive as well.

But Lacroix's blows were getting sloppy. He was panicking, his guard was off, and the vents on his great machine were exposed.

Nord breathed deeply, and let his face settle. He was not a child throwing a tantrum. He was a warrior, and this enemy needed killing.

Nord crossed his blades in an old stance he was familiar with, one he had not truly mastered. "The Islebreaker is a great machine, I will not deny that, but in the hands of a mediocre pilot-"

At the moment that the Islebreaker began to move, Nord dashed towards it, his blades now burning with a golden flame. He rushed to intercept its strikes (whether against him or his ally) and struck at the monster's vents with lightning speed. He landed just past the Islebreaker, blades outstretched.

"-it is little better than target practice."

Spoiler: Action

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Delaying my action to attempt to force a Withering Clash with the Islebreaker. Pay 2i to delay the action, puts me at 1i.

Since there's nobody between Nord and the Islebreaker's action I went ahead and included the attack on tick 1

Attack: Dex (3) + MA (5) + Weapon Acc (5) + Stunt (2) + Dual-wield Clash (2)

Spoiler

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(17d10)[9][5][6][10][5][6][2][3][2][3][2][2][10][8][10][1][6](90)

If the attack hits, will spend 3m to activate Searing Edge Attack to supplement the damage roll. Causes an additional 1i of damage (which I don't receive) if the damage roll has at least 1sux. If so, then Lacroix hits 0, crashes, and I gain a Break bonus.

Damage (minimum 4):

Spoiler

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(14d10)[7][6][1][5][10][3][10][9][7][8][1][2][9][10](88) + 3sux (successful clash)

[Ascension]

Rivers lands upright after their attack is repulsed, skidding to a halt, heels dug into the waves beneath their feet. They're drained, wrung out almost to the point of exhaustion from putting their full force into their futile blow. Still, they're far from defeated, and far from distracted. They stare up at the tentacle raised above their head, and in the moment before it fires, they recognize the import of its construction. It must be an evolution of the spike launcher mounted on the tail of the necrotech abomination they fought inside the tower; likely all the isolated laboratory's creations were but prototypes for the Islebreaker, its awful magnum opus.

They stamp the sea, grinding their boots into the surf, and they clasp their colossal gauntlets together over their head. The ancient jade should be proof against spikes of iron, and the fluid ocean beneath their feet should absorb and disperse the force of impact. With their reserves depleted, they must hope that will be enough.

Spoiler: OOC

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No essence, so this will be Parry 5 + Stunt + 1 (Willpower).

[Sticks]

They come from all sides, but really, is there any difference between a coordinated troupe of guards and one of dancers? Just one distinction that matters: the dancers know what the lead performer will do next. As the remaining Thornguard's coordinated assault closes in on the Dancer, she deftly jams her blade into the Thorn Captain's massive frame. She doesn't draw blood, flesh is too weak for this, but a tight wedge in the imposing armor resting on his muscular frame is perfect for her needs. The blade so secured, she grips it with both hands and swings upwards, dragging her anima with her as she does. A dazzling cascade of fire-leaves showers over her assailants as she rises to the peak of her arc, suspending her momentum at its zenith...and then comes crashing down in a fountain of sparks. Their blades, all clashing below her, where she was before, are her target. Her dancer's boots, flexible things with a light, sturdy sole, land hard on the flats of their blades, driving them into the floor and forcing their wielders to bend or release their weapons. Just like that, she's in their midst, surrounded but unmatched. With casual grace she removes her blade and points it again at the neck of the Thorn-Captain. "Last chance to surrender, Captain. You don't have to go down with your ship."

Spoiler: OOC

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Dancer is activating Flame Flicker Stance to boost her parry by the number of 1's in the attack roll. If she succeeds, she does not take onslaught penalties. Parry is 5+FFS (Cap 3) + Stunt.

[Inspector Valin]

Spoiler: OOC - Initiative Count

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16: Dancer
10: Rivers
6: Vendetta Guardsmen,
3: Whisper
1: Nord, Islebreaker + Lacroix,
0: Marrow, Thorn Captain Madrigora
-1: Granny

Lacroix has no apparent words for Nord - his focus is instead on the foes within the water. Rivers' newfound gauntlets see the Islebreaker's spears splinter and fall into the sea around them as they impact against the Dragon's impromptu shield, but the wretched things fall like a pile of rocks, starting to drive the rebel back across the water. Lacroix laughs, that strange warped sound emerging from his host as unpleasant as ever as his tendril waves with mocking cheer at his Exalted opponent. "Ohh... Look at you. You're at your limit, little Dragon? Your friend got lucky with her teeth. While I?"

All three Exalts present can feel a chill growing through the air, as a great pull of Necrotic essence flows towards the Islebreaker. Lacroix hisses. "I am far from done."

Even as Nord charges forward, the hatches that the vents supply open once again, the mighty artifact cannons clanking upwards on their chains right in Nord's line of sight as he begins to run across the core, looking for his chance to strike. That all too familiar hum begins to rise above the crashing waves, as the glug of green liquid pours through the tubing that encircles the underworld artillery, the great monster charging his device in preparation for another shot. The twin guns swivel downwards, the gator and the dragon firmly in Lacroix's sights, and the pair can see a blue circle gleam in the monstrous Kraken's eyes. They're far closer to the great leviathan than last time - their room to evade its fire is sharply limited.

And with a single white spark, once again, two mighty jets of colourless fire spill forth. The water below bubbles and boils at the jets passing, a thin cloud of steam rising in their wake, as the two shots begin to merge together into a single pulsing wave of fire.

Spoiler

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So... *taps* Lacroix is using the Pyre Cannons again. This will be an Unblockable withering attack, against Rivers and Whisper, and this time it's enhanced by Pulse of the Pray - granting the Islebreaker the benefits of a reflexive aim action on this attack.

However, given his positioning, I will say that Nord can clash this - using his reflexive move action to jump into the cannons' path and cut through the flames! His proximity is enough to shut it down, if he can pull off the clash. But Nord will lose his footing if he does this - win or lose, he's got nothing to stand on. He'll be in the water: taking -2 to his defenses and physical rolls going forward until he can get back to dry land. The shore is at Short range, but swimming through far from calm waters makes it Difficult Terrain.

*taps* Your choice, Tangible. ;) If you don't clash, this resolves normally, as will your attack. If you do clash, I will require a new roll, though you’re free to change your charm expenditure - I won’t dock you for a roll invalidated by circumstance.

Spoiler: Attack

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(15d10)[5][1][2][9][2][2][4][9][1][8][1][1][4][4][2](55) Attack
(20d10)[7][6][8][9][6][1][5][2][2][5][8][9][6][4][1][6][8][2][7][7](109)

I don't actually have a fun target for Lacroix's Devastating Action this round so I'm gonna hold off with it. ;)

"The Thornguard do not surrender." Madrigora's words are oddly quiet - no venom, no hatred, simply stating fact. He's been pushed to his limits trying to match the Dancer's pace amidst her sparks and jumping fires. He's tired. He's on the ropes. But the conditioning that allows the Thornguard to endure in the face of deathly opposition is enforced far more intensely on their officers. A Captain is not easy to subdue.

Dancer can feel a chill start to rise from the armoured figure, as though a strange new wind had entered the room. The emptiness of Madrigora's Underworld-tainted essence brings some small relief from the intensity of her flame. Madrigora does not waste this opportunity - he brings his hefty iron-helmed head down right at Dancer's blade, quick enough and with enough to knock it away before it could find purchase in his neck. Keeping her hold on the weapon can't help but pull Dancer down towards the unstable floor. Even as she works to rise to her feet, her eyes spy the Thorn Captain's mighty daiklave - Madrigora has risen it high above his head and with a spin brings it down right towards the Fire Aspect in a single firm executioner's stroke.

Spoiler

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Okay, Dancer's anima crashed Madrigora - she's up to 16i, he's at 0. However a good hit will keep the fight going, and Madrigora's got no interest in surrender, so... Withering Attack! Adding 3 dice via Enmity Driven Onslaught - this also adds 3 dice of post soak damage if he connects. Regular Thornguard aren't too bad for an Exalt but the Captains are another matter. ;)

Spoiler: Attack

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(15d10)[3][9][10][2][9][8][2][9][2][6][1][8][1][8][7](85) Attack
(15d10)[6][9][1][8][10][6][5][8][1][8][8][6][6][10][3](95) Base Damage, Overwhelming 5, +3 post soak.

[HalfTangible]

Nord had his plan. He knew to strike the vents, and as the Islebreaker heaved and shifted, he jumped onto its armor platings, making his way for his target.

But as he leapt up, ready to strike, Nord saw the cannons readying to fire. He saw the crocodile that fought this creature shining with moonlight, and he saw Rivers, exhausted and exposed.

They would not survive.

There was no question in his mind as to what to do.

No more words; just action.

Nord turned on the spot and leapt forward, crashing into the surf in front of Rivers and the crocodile. Before the water could even settle around him, he pushed off from the ground and leapt straight for the cannons. As light and fire engulfed him, his blades came up, and though he hoped to strike the cannons, he readied himself to die shielding his comrades.

Spoiler

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Spending 2m and 1wp on this attack.

Attack: Dex (3) + MA (5) + Weapon Acc (5) + Stunt (2) + Dual-wield Clash (2) + MA Excellency (2)
(19d10)[5][2][9][9][8][5][10][9][5][7][5][1][9][6][9][2][6][2][2](111) + 1 autosux

If the attack hits, will spend 3m to activate Searing Edge Attack to supplement the damage roll. Causes an additional 1i of damage (which I don't receive) if the damage roll has at least 1sux. If so, then Lacroix hits 0, crashes, and I gain a Break bonus.

Damage (minimum 4):
[rollv]14d10)[/rollv] + 3sux (successful clash)

[Sticks]

The Dancer sees the stroke coming and laughs. "Oh captain, my captain. It's admirable how you keep trying." She reverses the grip on her blade and brings it up to parry. It's true that such a huge heavy blade would snap her little short-sword if edge meets edge...but the hardened steel pommel is another matter. Holding the grip delicately, Dancer deftly catches the plunging Daiklave on the pommel of her sword and casually sends it careening away. It's a close thing, if her delicate fingers were not so slim, she might have lost some skin there. And what a pain that would be, explaining a bandage to the makeup artists at her next performance/intelligence gathering. She smirks. "But there's such a thing as trying too hard for no reward. I suppose it's hard to adapt, once you've given yourself to death. The finality of oblivion must make your imagination rust. You lose all..." She returns the blade to menacing the Thorn-captain. "...flexibility."

Spoiler: OOC

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Dancer is once again using Flame Flicker Stance. Also going to hedge this bet with 4m Excellency to raise her parry to 7, throw in a Willpower for 8 and a stunt for 9, plus any 1's in Mandrigora's roll.

[pfm1995]

Through the floor to ceiling windows in the ship's steerage, Marrow has a clear view of the clash of myths going on below him. He can see anima swirling through the air as black blood leaks into the water, the Islebreaker readying it next titanic strike and his fellow Exalts standing square in its sight. The stone that's been filling his gut since he first saw the slave-ship shatter grows a little larger as another hope dies - they weren't winning. As much as he wants to believe that nothing could beat this assembly of notables, the military mind he's spend decades honing can see the battles inevitable conclusion. He'd spent hours, days even, since the Fall listening to old stories, tearing through the Petricorum's archives and even reading what Immaculate literature he could get his hands on all to learn one thing - how to fight fellow Exalts. They'd been the pivot in so many great battles that the information was there for the taking - even the most blatant hagiographies had lessons that could be teased out by a critical eye - and what he'd learned told him that this fight was fast reaching its end. Exalts were powerful, but even the most powerful of them, the so-called Anathema, had limits. Rarely did a successful Wild Hunt - or the Thornwatch Inquisitors, for that matter - fight an Exalt in glorious hand-to-hand combat. Instead they sniped and harried and chased until the Anathema was wounded and tired and alone and then they struck the killing blow.

They were wounded, and tired, and alone and now they were just waiting for the final blow to come. This fight had already been going on too long, they'd spent too much - if they hadn't killed it already, they weren't going to. His friends on the ground would die, then the Islebreaker would turn its titanic guns on the airship and there wouldn't even be a song left to sing.

Marrow lets out a piercing whistle, catching the attention of his newfound band of ghosts as he strides with great false confidence towards the ship's wheel. "Man the stations!" He shouts, trying to remember the commands he'd heard captains yell at the docks in his youth, "Bring her up to speed, as fast as she can go! Someone find me whatever controls the altitude on this thing and prepare to lower us down!" Grasping the wheel in two firm hands, he spares a moment to beg Rudihra for whatever aid she can spare, and spun the wheel wildly to the right. Like a great beast the ship groaned in pain; cables snapped taught and pulleys rattled as she wallowed and came about. Below him, as the ship twists the floor tilts and he fights to keep both his footing and his grip on the wheel. The ship's pain only lasts for a moment, though, and the ghosts could care less about tilting floors; when he judges it right he releases the wheel and it spins back into neutral as the ship levels out. There's a smile that's more like a gash on Marrow's face as he checks their heading - however this day ends, there will have been no sacrifices in vain.

The ship gathers speed, cutting through the air like the knife of a god as it flies straight towards the Islebreaker.

[Inspector Valin]

No one was looking up as Marrow brought the ship onto its collision course - all eyes were on Karal Nord, and his desperate efforts to wrestle with the Pyreflame. The Solar's blades stood true against the horrific blast, beating it back into the very cannons it sprung from. Fluids hiss, sputter and steam as Lacroix roars in anger at the affront.

And that bought Marrow of the Root's little plan the perfect opportunity

The airship descends like a bolt from the blue - for all the damage Dancer and her ghost-friends have been wreaking on the gundeck, the sheer heft of the craft is still quite impressive. Unheading any sort of warning or restraint, Marrow brings the bough of the ship right towards the Islebreaker's still smoldering core section. Almost before the assembled Exalted can react the ship plows right into the metal kraken with a terrible screech and a shower of sparks. Lacroix screams in pain, trying to bring metal tendrils down to wrestle with the fuselage and tear this makeshift weapon away from his borrowed body. The water starts to twist and turn beneath the three Exalted champions as entire sections of the ship's hull crash down into the ocean foam, now stained black with the viscera of the monster.

Spoiler

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The Islebreaker suffers damage akin to a Medium fall. 4Lhl Automatic, 7B rolled. After this, it's at -2 Injury no matter what.

(7d10)[1][3][4][8][3][4][2](25)

Nord, Rivers and Whisper are going to need to roll against this. Dex + Dodge is the most sure fire way to get out of there, anything else - check with me in Discord before rolling. 3sux will downgrade this to a Short fall, 6 means no damage. Dancer and Marrow are spared for now. Good luck!

[The_Snark]

Whisper is the first to spot the plummeting airship, some sixth sense telling her look up and ancient instinct at once recognizing the looming silhouette as danger. She flips over and dives: beneath the surface, beneath the Islebreaker, anything to put distance and cover between herself and the plummeting doom.

Spoiler

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Whisper's Dex+Dodge is 6; adding 6 dice via Dex Excellency (stunted to add Perception).
(14d10)[9][2][3][3][5][6][7][2][4][1][8][7][3][10](70)

[HalfTangible]

Nord fell through the air, a slight grin on his face. Lacroix's enraged screams were music to the Anathema's ears. As he flipped and fell towards the water below, however, he noticed something. Initially he brushed it off as an optical illusion; he didn't know much about Dancer but Marrow had a level head on his shoulders. He'd never use an airship as a barreting ram.

The moment Nord realized that no he was not hallucinating, the airship was crashing into the Islebreaker, his smile died and his jaw dropped. By then it was too late to get out of the way and all he could do was hold up his arms to catch the ship, a maneuver that was utterly impossible but also all he could think of.

Survive or not it would hopefully be the dumbest thing he ever did in his life.

Spoiler

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Stamina 5 + Resistance 4
(9d10)[8][9][4][7][10][7][4][5][9](63)

[Eurus]

Granny can't see much of what's happening, but the airship falling out of the sky... that's hard to miss. Grinning, she adds to the drama with yet more lightning. Her fingers fly across the keys in a dramatic crash, and she works the pedals furiously and with a possibly dangerous enthusiasm. But the Storm Hammer rises to the challenge, disgorging a veritable pillar of lightning on top of the debris-covered Islebreaker.

Spoiler: OOC

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Attacking the Islebreaker again with the storm hammer. Using a full Wits excellency, and stunting to add Dexterity to the cap. 10 peripheral motes. Anima rises to Bonfire.

Wits (5) + Lore (3) + Stunt (2) + Accuracy (3) + Excellency (10)
(23d10)[10][7][5][1][9][3][7][4][1][2][10][9][5][5][2][10][2][9][10][1][5][9][6](132)

11/16 Personal
15/38 Peripheral
2/5 Willpower

[Ascension]

Rivers hasn’t even finished thanking all the appropriate gods and dragons for Nord’s timely intervention in the face of the Islebreaker’s pyre flame cannons before they’re under deadly threat again. Now, with a whole damn airship falling out of the sky, right on top of their position, they wonder if the pyre flame might not have been preferable.

There’s nowhere to run, really. Even diving down, they couldn’t swim fast enough to avoid the shock of impact. But neither must they simply shoulder the full brunt of the blow. They are not the stone standing at the shoreline, solid and unmoving in the face of the tide, they are the tide itself. When water is struck, it flows, absorbing the force of the blow, dispersing it. In theory, can’t they do the same?

‘I am water.’

In the slow seconds that pass as Rivers traces the arc of the incoming airship, they let that simple mantra push out all useless doubts. Thinking about the situation any further would only weaken their resolve, would only remind them of their sore muscles, their sweat-soaked brow, their tenuous grasp on their elemental essence. Or, worse, they might begin to estimate the weight of the airship, the speed of its descent, the force of its falling. Their situation is obviously dire; dwelling on it any further would simply chase out what little hope remains.

‘I am water.’

Now, resolve. Now, decisive action. Now-

‘I am water.’

-fluidity.

Scant moments before the crashing airship strikes, Rivers relaxes the subtle pressure of their anima, the gentle force which allows them to walk on the surface of the water as on solid ground, allowing themselves to begin to sink. Their body, at the same time, goes carefully slack; not limp, but yielding. Their resistance to the horrendous crash is non-resistance. They allow themselves to be impacted, let the force crumple their posture, let themselves be driven down into the chill waters. It hurts – gods above and dragons below, it hurts – but the impact is distributed, and cushioned by the liquid sea. It won’t be as bad as it could have been.

Danaa’d and Zhinü willing, it won’t be the end.

Spoiler: OOC and Roll

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You know, I didn’t look at Rivers stats before saying I was completely okay with the friendly fire here. They’re poorly equipped for this situation, but since you gave approval for Nord to use Stamina + Resistance, I’m going to assume I can try it for Rivers. They have no essence (and no applicable Charms, anyway), but I’ll spend 1 WP for an auto-success, and you better believe I’m rolling my stunt dice.

(8d10)[9][4][5][4][9][2][3][2](38)+1 success

[Inspector Valin]

The airship is a mighty instrument, and Marrow's gambit shows it well. For all the Islebreaker's efforts, the improvised projectile still tears through hastily forged gaps between soulsteel plating. More black ichor begins to leak from the necrotic leviathan, even as it manages to slowly force the mighty craft down and to the side, the airship coming to a turbulant rest in the waters of the bay. The kraken is wounded, the control core starting to smolder with a foul looking green smoke. With every second, the monster looks a little less unbeatable.

Even as the ship comes to a halt however, the great vessel begins to rumble and a repeated low thwoom sound echoes out, before the metal of its upper hull finally gives way beneath a chain of rising bright orange gouts of fire. The collision, the sparking metal and Dancer's anima have finally set the reserve munitions supply ablaze; the bombs intended for enemies detonating one by one.. Thornguard and mortal crewmembers are blown every which way by blast after blast as Madrigora and Dancer continue trading blows through the midst of the inferno, some even diving in the vain hope that the waters might prove safer than the ruins of their craft.

The ghosts around Marrow are cheering, though the young Dragon could be forgiven for taking a less optimistic view of his situation. The control cabin now sits below the waterline, and cracks are beginning to form upon the glass of the viewscreen. Staying here is probably not a good idea.

---

Focused as she is on the keys before her, the music they produce and the battle still raging just past her window across the bay below, Granny could be forgiven for missing the patter of feet on stone a few levels down.

Gasping for breath, the figure bursts through the door, placing a hand to a table to steady herself. With the corner of her eye, Granny can make out some vague features of her new friend - an oversized leather coat loosely hung about her, the drip of blood she's leaving upon the table, the bob of pink hair. She doesn't look like she's a Thornguard at any rate. The new arrival is winded by the climb, and takes a few seconds to steady herself. Then, rising to her feet, she finally takes a second to look at the mighty organ and the strange old woman playing it for all she's worth.

The strange blood-soaked arrival places a hand to her rose-crowned forehead, as though thinking back to some distant memory. After a few seconds however, she opens her eyes and nods: more to herself than old Granny. "Okay. I can do this."

And with those few mumbled words behind her, the stranger begins to sing; her voice a rich mezzo-soprano that matches the tones of the Storm Hammer. She doesn't employ words, at least not any that Granny can distinguish, matching her notes with tone and half-syllables as best she can. And the keys beneath Granny's fingers begin to tremble, resonating at the echoed note. Now the music of the organ rings out stronger still. And when the bolts fall down, they crackle with a greater force yet.

Spoiler

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Actions. Have. CONSEQUENCES!

Cantabella is here to help - she's got a combined grasp of music and magic that is all but tailor made for this situation. She can't operate the organ without time to study the firing sequences, but she can use her own voice and magic to help power it up. Each success here adds a bonus die to Granny's attack roll

(8d10)[4][4][7][9][6][5][10][4](49)

Everyone bar Granny is now at Close range of the Islebreaker. Need to resolve this attack, damage to Rivers, and then post a new I count for top of round!

[Inspector Valin]

Dorian Lacroix has begun to reel. His Islebreaker, his colossus, his grand weapon is not enough to stand tall against the might of so many champions. Tendrils reach backward, trying to shield the core, buy the ghostly officer just a few seconds to recover.

He does not get that chance. Granny's playing kicks in just as the smoke from the fallen airship was beginning to clear, a colossal bolt from the clouds above. It doesn't stop, the music echoing across the bay, now backed by a voice Rivers may dimly recall from a few minutes back. The sound of the Stormhammer is almost enough to drown out the grunting sounds of exhersition that are starting to emerge.

Back on the island, a handful of almost forgotten figures stand in the entryway of the old tower, looking out across the battlefield in quiet awe. They'd witnessed the monster rise from the ocean, seen it tear a metal ship in two and consign all aboard to a watery grave. It'd seemed unbeatable, a second Juggernaut, a monster wrought of black science and necromantic artifice mortal man couldn't hope to fight against. They'd lost all hope of escape in that moment - they'd been snatched from a watery grave below, only to fall prey to this armoured colossus.

And yet, their rescuers had not lost hope. They'd stood tall before Lacroix, fought him blow for blow. And now, impossibly, despite all the fire and fury of the Mask's great weapon being thrown at them, they are winning.

Spoiler: OOC Initiative Count

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16: Dancer
13: Nord, Granny
10: Rivers
3: Whisper
0: Marrow, Thorn Captain Madrigora
-20: Islebreaker + Lacroix


Top of round! +5m to you all, Dancer you're up!

[Ascension]

As fire and thunderbolts light the skies above, Rivers, below, drifts on underwater currents, sinking with an oddly calming slowness. They let the salt flood fill their lungs, thick and stinging, but not suffocating. They breathe deeply, deliberately, clinging to their center of calm despite the pain wracking their body. They feel a trickle of strength returning to their body, but they're groggy, head spinning. A concussion, at least. Can they rest, for a moment? There are Anathema up there, still fighting the Islebreaker. Would Rivers' feeble efforts be necessary? Would they even be capable of making a difference?

Maybe they'll feel like fighting in a moment. Maybe they'll remember their fury, their defiance. But for now... just a few seconds, at least... rest.

[Sticks]

The world is tumbling, sinking, exploding all around her, but the Dancer's poise is unshaken. She'd trained to pirouette on the blades of a skyship's propeller, sashay just so between flaming arrows, dip, split and rise as initiates swung away with their falchions, and that wasn't half as dangerous or bombastic as some of the stage-sets she'd performed on. Mandrigora, on the other hand, seems very unlikely to have had such extensive training. Her last parry had knocked him off-balance, his footing wis poor on the tilting deck, and the Dancer sees her opportunity.

With a flourish, she feints to his right, forcing him to parry low. When he goes to block, she slides her sword down the length of his blade in a cascade of sparks. She skips the edge gently over the guard and the sparks follow, burning in the wake of the weapon. She drives her short-sword hard into his wrist before drawing it up his arm towards his throat, slicing as she goes.

Spoiler: OOC & Rolls

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Dancer is spending 6m on Become the Hammer and another 3m1wp on Perfect Blazing Blow for this Decisive attack. Up to 2 9's are doubled, and 2 8's as well if he is crashed...which he is. Each doubled success adds an additional die of damage.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Decisive Attack: (19d10)[6][1][9][3][2][8][5][10][1][3][10][9][4][1][6][9][8][4][6](105)
Decisive Damage: (16d10)[5][9][4][6][3][4][5][5][7][9][3][4][4][4][2][7](81)
Potential Extra Damage: (4d10)[5][10][1][4](20)

The sword carves through armor and flesh, growing hotter with each inch it travels. With a final flick, the borrowed blade cuts through Mandrigora's windpipe, and the gout of hot blood extinguishes the trail of sparks. In the relative darkness, Dancer stoops and retrieves the Thorn-Captain's weapon. "Au revior mon capitaine, though I doubt we'll meet again. Your sword will be a valuable bargaining chip to ingratiate myself with these rebels." With that, the Dancer shoulders the weapon and makes to depart the sinking ship.

[HalfTangible]

Nord would have words with that Dancer or Marrow or whatever brain-addled moron decided the best way to utilize an airship was to RAM IT INTO THE GROUND!!

There was a brief moment of panic when he broke the surface of the water. He didn't see Rivers, though he was certain they had been in the path of the ship. It was a moment he shook off. Saki had told him once that water aspects couldn't drown. If Rivers had survived the wreck then they would be fine.; if not there was nothing Nord could do to help them. He was no doctor, he was a soldier. And right now, the Islebreaker was still up.

As the airship continued to sink, Nord swam to the wreckage of its deck and pulled himself up. It took two tries (the deck kept slipping) but he was able to pull himself up.

One of the Islebreaker's tendrils was flopped up on the deck immediately before him. The crashing airship had damaged the kraken's armor, and badly. There were cracks everywhere, and the occasional gap. With a slight flourish, he stabbed both blades into one of those gaps and almost casually started pyring off one of the panels. Not at all how the daiklaves were meant to serve, perhaps, but it did the job well enough.

"Still awake in there, Damien?" He called out, intentionally getting the arrogant ghost's name wrong. "Someone got your airship away from your men. You better get up and start fighting seriously. It almost looks like you're losing!!"

He raised one eyebrow, and gave the most condescending smirk he could manage. (He remembered Tempest; complete butter bar, that one. Nord had no idea how she'd made Chuzel).

Come on, you ****er. Hit me.

Spoiler: Action

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Flurry.

Action 1: Nord will hit the Islebreaker with a withering attack unmodded by dice. I'm saving up on motes for an alpha strike next round.
3 Dex + 5 Melee + 1 Dual Wield + 5 Acc + 2 Stunt - 3 Flurry
Attack: (13d10)[2][3][7][8][5][1][1][2][7][2][6][2][10](56)
Damage: (14d10)[8][5][10][2][8][8][1][8][1][4][4][6][1][8](74)

Action 2: Nord is taunting Lacroix, trying to get the behemoth to go after him instead of any of his allies.

4 Appearance + 2 Presence + 1 Oratory + 2 Stunt - 3 (Flurry)
(6d10)[8][8][10][5][9][2](42)

[Eurus]

Granny is so focused, and the accompaniment seems so natural, that it takes her a moment to realize that a singer is accompanying her. When she does, she looks over her shoulder at the girl and grins.

"Can't blame you for joining me, it's the best seat in the house."

With the surge of extra power humming in the organ, Granny plays. Her anima flows out from the shattered tower in a cool, wet breeze, chasing away the tang of salt and smoke with the smell of earth and moss. Half-real tendrils of flowering vegetation in the deep blues and purples of night creep out in all directions, waving in the air like fronds. They reach up, grasping at the sky, and bloom with quicksilver flowers that shine like a constellation in the sky. It's a rich, dramatic sight, and the music seems to hum through the air even more vibrantly as she strikes a chord.

The lightning that answers her call this time is the shimmering white of moonlight.

Spoiler: OOC

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Granny can delay to combine with her beautiful assistant, if need be? But she's not on the initiative order. So... I'm just gonna go for it, but I'm fine with delaying if it helps.


Wits (5) + Lore (3) + Stunt (2) + Accuracy (3) + Excellency (10)
(23d10)[6][4][1][4][10][5][3][3][10][9][1][7][5][5][2][1][4][9][3][10][1][6][8](117)

Initiative (13)
(13d10)[4][2][6][5][10][7][8][10][3][1][10][6][1](73)

11/16 Personal
10/38 Peripheral
2/5 Willpower

[Inspector Valin]

Pink shares a wink with Granny, not risking an interruption in her song. The silver lightning crackles across the Islebreaker, this time reaching deep beneath its plating. The war machine's mighty tendrils thrash through the water as Lacroix cries out in pain. His voice is growing distorted, deep and rough, near bestial. The harsh smell of charred, burning flesh starts to waft across the battlefield.

The creature's eyes loose focus for a few seconds, the Islebreaker taking time to recover itself. As it does however, those dark lenses begin to flare a baleful red as they turn upwards towards Karal Nord. His words have seemingly reached some portion of the ghostly captain.

Spoiler: OOC

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I'm going to say that the assistance of Pink allows Granny to convert 3 excess successes from her attack to damage dice, which I'll roll here.

(3d10)[7][10][4](21)

EDIT: Okay! That's another 8 levels of damage on the Islebreaker. It's well into its -2 HL: one more good wack will take it to -4. Nord's hit isn't enough to beat its soak, but it still does 3 damage on the Overwhelming, upping Nord's I count by 4 to 17. Rivers is up!

17: Nord
10: Rivers
3: Whisper, Granny, Dancer
0: Marrow,
-23: Islebreaker + Lacroix

[Ascension]

Rivers blinks, slowly at first, then rapidly, testing the evidence of their eyes, disbelieving. Then they taste its bitter tang, and they know it to be true. Black oil and the old, brown blood of beings too long dead pollute the salt water Rivers breathes, and though it turns their stomach, it also gives them hope. The Islebreaker suffers.

Rivers squints through the murk, examining the necrotech behemoth more closely, and sees that it seems to be at least as badly broken as they are, if not moreso. At least as badly vulnerable.

Rivers kicks, swimming, stepping, or something in between, climbing their way back up the water column. Their head still aches, their vision wavers with every stroke they take through the water, but they move with surprising speed, and renewed vigor. When they reach the underside of the Islebreaker, they reach for a panel loosened in the apocalyptic crash of the airship, or in the detonations that followed it. They don't attempt anything artful or ambitious; they make no more grandiose pronouncements of judgment. The phantasmal crocodiles and river-beasts of their anima begin to thrash again in the waters around them, but even their laughter is stilled, their teeth merely glinting in silent threat.

With a grunt of effort, they wedge jade-clad fingers into the gap in the Islebreaker's armor and pull back on it, wrenching the damaged panel fully open. Their other hand plunges inside the construct, seizing a pulpy mass of once-living tissue threaded through with metallic cabling. With the raw stuff of the Islebreaker in hand, they take a shuddering breath of blood-black water, and then they squeeze.

Spoiler: OOC and Rolls

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Decisive attack. Dumping Rivers' full five motes of Essence into Become the Hammer (the Brawl Excellency).

Spoiler: Rolls

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Attack (9 -2 [wound] +2 [stunt] +5 [excellency]): (14d10)[8][6][8][3][2][1][4][6][3][8][10][4][6][7](76)
Damage: (10d10)[10][3][8][4][2][6][10][5][6][8](62)

Damage rerolls 6s until 6s cease to appear: (5d10)[3][3][6][5][10](27) Damage potentially inflicted by this attack is capped at seven levels of damage.

[Inspector Valin]

Lacroix had forgotten the water aspect, so recently fallen beneath the waves, his focus having turned upwards towards the meddlesome Solar. But as Rivers tears into the Islebreaker's inner workings, breaking through ligaments and delicate nerves, their presence becomes all too evident. Bile and other fluids gush out from the expanding hole, a trickle rapidly turning into a torrent as the great kraken shrieks; a strange, high pitched noise with no trace of Lacroix's mocking laughter to be heard. There's a faint precurrent as the behemouth brings two tendrils down beneath the waves in a desperate effort to swat their unnoticed attacker away.

But they're lacking Lacroix's formerly supernatural speed. Effortlessly Rivers pulls away from the oncoming blows: first to the right, then the left, never losing their grip upon the monster as its barbs impact futilely against its own outer casing. They're a Prince of the Earth. They're not dying here.

Spoiler

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4 damage. Pushes the Islebreaker to 31 damage taken - it's at -4!

Whisper is up! Godspeed!

17: Nord
3: Whisper, Granny, Dancer, Rivers
0: Marrow,
-23: Islebreaker + Lacroix

[The_Snark]

Amidst the thrashing tails and flashing teeth of Rivers' anima, one shape flashes silvery-white as it cuts through the water. Its mouth opens in a crocodilian smile, its tail flicking in what looks like approximation of a friendly wave to the Dragon-Blooded... or perhaps it's just a trick of the light, and the opened mouth is merely in preparation to harry the Islebreaker once more. Hard to say, really.

And harry the Islebreaker she does, clamping down once more upon its arms and dragging down. The soulsteel monstrosity is far too large to pull under on her own, but it's just one more thing demanding Lacroix's attention, preventing him from regaining his composure and striking back properly. She does her best to ignore the taste of formaldehyde and befouled flesh leaking into the water.

Spoiler

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Withering bite attack, spending 5m on Excellency...

Spoiler: Rolls

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Attack: (15d10)[3][10][4][6][6][3][7][7][10][3][2][1][7][8][4](81)

Base damage is 16; the Islebreaker's soak is reduced by 4 against the attack, plus an extra point for each threshold success on the attack roll (can't reduce soak below Stamina).

[pfm1995]

Some plans are so audacious that even the laws of physics take a moment to catch up. So it was that, having steadied his footing and prayed to every got even remotely relevant, when Marrow pulled the lever the airship just... hung there, unmoored from Creation. Then it fell, and Marrow realized what a horrible plan this had been. Priceless metal and wood shaped by expert hands hit the necrotech abomination with a terribly cacophony, the wood crying out in desperate pain until it shattered, the metal squealing so loud it seemed to tear a hole in the world in it's desperation to get away. All Marrow's bracing was for naught; the moment the ship hit he was torn from his perch and thrown bodily through a ghost and into a bulkhead where his head hit the wood with an eye-watering thud.

After that, everything gets a little fuzzy. Stumbling back to his feet - seconds, minutes, or bells later, he couldn't tell - Marrow shook his head, trying to dislodge the persistent ringing in his ears. He smelled... smoke? Was someone cooking something? And what was he... He looked down, and grinned. He was still holding the wheel, well, part of the wheel. Pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen. Everyone around him is cheering, though so it can't be too bad. Probably not worth worrying about. Grinning even wider, he chucks the broken piece of wheel behind him and makes to join the celebration before some deep-seated instinct stops him. From behind him he hears a sharp cracking sound.

That didn't sound good.

Turning, he sees a dozen spiderwebs worth of cracks growing throughout the bay windows, like frost creeping over a pond. With the water behind it and the sun shining down from somewhere above, all Marrow can do for a moment is marvel at the beauty. Then, finally, it all snaps into focus. He remembers, he just deliberately crashed an airship, the necrokraken might not be dead, and there was an awfully large amount of water about to drown his unfortunately-Wood-aspected soul. He doesn't swear, though he really wants to, and uses the spare breath to scream for his ghostly accomplices to follow him as he tears pell-mell out of the command room. When he hits daylight (through a torn-apart section of hull that would have been a wall if it wasn't so busy being the ceiling) he's gasping for breath, his back and side and head all starting to ache as the adrenaline wears off. Half-bent over, he takes in the scene and then turns to the attendant ghosts. There's fire in his eyes, and taking a deep breath he shouts to them: "ONE LAST FIGHT! VENGEANCE! KILL LACROIX!" There's fire in his eyes and steel in his voice, and to his eyes they solidify in the wavering sunlight as they charge past him at the necrokraken, still tangled up in the burning wreck of the airship. This time his grin is nothing but predatory - if he can't chase Lacroix into the hereafter, they most definitely could.

For his part, he takes a private moment to scan the water hopefully.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Let me know if I need to make any kind of test for the run. Otherwise, Order action on the ghosts to go kick Lacroix's spectral teeth in. Charisma + War, full Excellency + Roaring Dragon Officer

Order - (10d6)[6][2][5][5][4][4][3][4][3][4](40)
Reroll Sixes - (5d10)[1][5][6][8][1](21)
Additional die for each 10 - (5d10)[2][5][2][4][2](15)

[Inspector Valin]

Marrow's swift exit from the bridge brings him back to rejoin Dancer on the gundeck, just as the victorious Fire Aspect is about to withdraw from the burning remains of the airship. The motley ghosts, who had been cheering Dancer's execution of the Thorn-Captain, fall in behind Marrow at his call. Just as before, shards of iron and splintered wood rise up and clatter against the Islebreaker's fracturing hull. Unfortunately that seems to be all these spirits are capable of, and the great leviathan looming above the remains of the airship is largely unperturbed by their.

What harm is a pinprick after all when teeth and claws are sinking into your flesh?

The Islebreaker is reeling, trying desperately to swat at the threats both below and above. All of it to no avail. The cracks are growing wider as Lacroix contorts the great craft, struggling futilly to brush away his adversaries to no avail. Nord's strikes from above, Whisper and Rivers from below - the damage is coming too fast for the great Kraken to hope to stop.

Its red eyes flicker between Nord and the figures standing within the burning airship, the crimson glare briefly blinding. One lens turns to the side, regarding the handful of souls still lingering on the land, glancing between the doorway and the hearthroom. A horse voice begins to crackle - deep and rasping, as though it were coming from a deep toothsome maw somewhere beneath that blend of bone and steel, struggling to get through, to cry out at the unjust world. "Ve^r_rRrmin! Stupid^stupid_stuuupidinnsects! yOu thiIiink you've _W^ON?"

And with that final word, the Islebreaker's mighty tendrils... stop. Slowly, in perfect unison, the eight limbs of the leviathan rise up above the waves, the waters parting with ease before them. As they go, a low chorus of clanking metal begins to ring out as the underside attack ports that'd pelted Rivers with iron barbs once again begin to open. This time however, the glint within is not the simple shine of steel, but a strange dull orange light. Back on the core, with a sickening whur of half-jammed machinery, the dolesome pyre cannons rise once again, the green glare of the necromantic flame all too familiar. The fuel tanks rattle, straining to hold the excess liquid already being forced through the piping by an over-eager master.

One final move. A thing designed to end navies in a stroke.

"BURN!" Lacroix the Islebreaker cries out with savage, unchecked glee. Gouts of crackling orange fire rise from every attack port, as the Islebreaker swings its tendrils wildly across the bay, the cannons swiveling full circle as they join the barrage. Each jet of flame intensifies as the cannons' pyreflame touches it, gaining that same unearthly green hue as the essence of the underworld takes its toll. Everything is lit by that unearthly, wicked fire as it courses over the waves.

Below the waterline, Rivers and Whisper can see the blinding light envelop the world above. The five watching civilians at the pier scramble desperately back inside as the oncoming tide of emerald fire courses towards the tower. Granny and the pink haired woman are less lucky, as one large gout of flame rises upward towards the broken window overlooking them both. Across the battlefield, all that can be seen is that unbroken green glare. Visibility is low amidst the crackling flames - even the mighty animas of the Exalted are momentarily consumed within the tempest.

Those within the blast can't see the Islebreaker. They can't see the ground or hear the waves all around them amidst the crackling roar. They can't see or hear each other. In this moment the world is a firestorm, and each and every soul is alone amidst the blaze.

Spoiler

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So, Lacroix closes out the round with a nice, friendly All Consuming Cataclysm! A certain artisan's special inclusion. I'll exempt Rivers and Whisper from this attack, on grounds of being in the water. However, this hits everything in Medium range of the Islebreaker. So Nord, Dancer, Marrow, Granny - you're all up! The pyre flame being supernatural means Dancer's anima immunity technically doesn't kick in, buuut I'm feeling in a generous mood - she can take (Essence) off the difficulty.

Environmental Hazard. Stamina + Resistance, Difficulty 5 (3 for Dancer) or roll 5L damage. Lacroix can maintain this charm at the cost of 1AHL per round after the first. It will kill him to keep this up... but it's his best shot at killing all of you.

[HalfTangible]

As Lacroix screamed obscenities, Nord grabbed the soulsteel plate he'd been peeling back and wrenched it further out of place. With the squeal and schreech of soulsteel being rent out of shape, and the strained scream of the Forsaken, it ripped off and clattered to the flotsam beneath his feet.

It was only after he pried off the plate (barely smaller than his torso, actually) that Nord noticed something off. The Islebreaker drew back, its tentacles rising above the water. He heard the sounds of gears grinding, and fuel sloshing into place. Another Pyrecannon attack? Well, whatever. He'd endured such blows twice now. It wouldn't save the Islebreaker. He grinned wide, ready for Lacroix's best shot...

...Or so he thought.

Then the ports opened, and gouts of orange flame spilled from every one, covering the battlefield in an inferno.

... You just had to taunt him, didn't you Nord?!

"BEHIND ME!!"

In a desperate moment, he grabbed the soulsteel plate he'd ripped up and put it between him and the islebreaker, just in time to catch the blast. His skin seared and his flesh burned, and though the plate offered him some protection, the very air scorched at his lungs. Nord couldn't help but compare it to the sun itself; was this what it was like to stand upon the Daystar?

And yet, his stolen power kept him up.

Spoiler

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Stamina 5 + Resistance 4 + Stunt 2, no charms
(11d10)[1][5][6][7][8][8][2][10][2][2][4](55)

[Eurus]

The flowering anima around Granny seems to recoil, wrapping around her protectively as she rolls off the stool in front of the organ and braces herself. Fire scorches through ephemeral vines, blasting her, and she curses silently to herself.

Spoiler: OOC

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Resistance (1) + Stamina (4) + Stunt (2)
(7d10)[9][8][1][2][1][3][4](28)

Damage:
(5d10)[6][9][10][9][4](38)