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[Selena]

From the west came a large number of uniform warships, each proudly displaying the flag of the Legends Alliance. They had once been the true muscle of the Lalvican Sea and the Eastern Ocean, but now they sailed to defend their homeland from a far more destructive force, the like of which had never been assembled.

The full naval might of the Forsaken Fortress was roaring in from the east, scores of vessels that had seen years worth of action on the high seas. They were nowhere near as pristine or orderly as their Alliance counterparts, but were just as deadly, if not more so. Jolly rogers and Fortress banners were raised high upon their masts, waving in the strong morning breeze. Behind them were transports and military vessels from both the Lost Woods and Ikana Canyon. Khuffie had been safe in his tower while the Dorm Wars raged, but now that the dorms had united as one, they were a force not to be taken lightly.

The plan was simple - the Fortress ships would smash the Alliance Navy, allowing the jointly owned transports to unload an army large enough to take Olimandias. The capital was low on defenses, as the planned attack on Ur'Almen two days before had been successful in drawing troops away from Khuffie's throne. The Labyrinth would reinforce them from their tunnels, as the subterranean Hakubi Road ended just south of Olimandias itself. The dorms would take it. Khuffie would die. And the world would never be the same again.

--

Keel stood on the deck of one of the Fortress warships. He idly watched as the two fleets closed on each other. He was the observer - meant to jump around the various locations of the battle and ensure that everything went smoothly. He had every intention of staying out of the fights unless it was necessary to give someone a helping hand or portal or two. It was an amusing situation, really. Worthy of at least a few epic traveling songs. Unity through mutual destructive tendencies.

He turned his eyes to the land ahead, hoping that little friend of his was intending to keep her end of the bargain. That was when the fun would truly begin!

"Y'arr!" A pirate shouted. "They be nearin' cannon range!"

Oh. He'd better go find a good seat to watch from.

--

Selena was far underneath the surface, traveling down the length of the Labyrinth's Hakubi Road with the Labyrinth soldiers who had remained loyal to her after Chikara's departure at Van'Duras. The Road's portal system aided their progress, each systematically placed warp point sending them miles ahead every time they reached one. The Kanagida spear was in her hand. She was fully suited in proper Labyrinth battle armor, which she had not used since.... She paused. Since the war against the Hall, at least. No wonder it had felt a bit tight. She'd gotten much taller since then. At least she hoped that was the reason the armor felt tight. Too many morning croissants while plotting world domination, perhaps. Not too much of a worry. She'd be getting plenty of exercise today!

The spear, coupled with the effects of the Labyrinth's foul air, had brought out the worst of her senses. Fading was the analytical leader, slowly replaced by a woman enslaved by her own bloodlust. There hadn't been a decent fight in a long time. She was more than ready.

To hell with the Alliance. It was time for the dorms to take back the land that was rightfully theirs!

[Goose]

Goose was on a transport. It wasn't much, wasn't much at all. But something was coming, something that would greatly change the world. Khuffie was going to meat his match. And Goose was going to ensure that he suffered. Suffered like the devil he was.

Goose had a plan. An Evil plan. And he would see it through.

[Crimson Lego]

As the transports followed the Forsaken Fortress navy towards the Alliance ships, Leo was sharpening the blade of his axe. Running the blade over the edge of the weapon, he examined it after and was satisfied. Placing it on a table, he did the same for his knife. Revenge will be good.

After a short amount of time, he sheathed it, picked up the axe and climbed up to the deck. Other Lost Woods members were there, ready to land on the shores and take over Olimandias. I wonder if Jordan is here?

Edited by Leo Crimson, 15 March 2009 - 06:30 AM.

[DarkJuno]

The mighty Fortress fleet plowed through the churning sea, unflinchingly aimed in the direction of the adversary that had forced the odd bedfellows of the three powers together against it. At first glance, they come across as a rather ragtag, dare one might say random assortment of ships, varying in size, shape and specialty. Massive hulking behmoths useless in speed but a nightmare to face, small lithe craft that could be splintered in seconds if you could catch them, and everywhere in between. Clearly, all of these vessels had seen much combat, its crews experienced on the high seas and everything it could throw at them. Somewhere located in the middle of the massive fleet, made even larger with the addition of the ships from the other two dorms, is the ship of the Admiral himself, staying true to his usually twisted words to be right there in the thick of the naval arm of the attack.

Ignoring the slight breeze splashing the salty air onto his face, the Admiral grimaces at the sight of the rather.....pretty looking Alliance ships on the horizon. Oh, no doubt they were formidable and had talented soldiers and sailors amongst them, but all in all, they appeared to be more ready for a showing rather then combat. The sun ironically shines down brihtly on the ships, as no doubt the end of the day would be less fitting of the usual joyous, tropical atmosphere it's a part of, glistening off of the pirate's battleworn but well kept armor. His usual gauntlets are now joined by the rest of the protective gear, which even with the long draping coat and required wide brimmed feather hat that had been integrated into it, certainly didn't look like it belonged to a man of the sea. Hell, the vast majority of the pirates had no need for armor, and those who did certainly weren't as well made as the leather and odd metal twisted and stitched together into the armor the Admiral wears. It was certainly an antique, the handpicked crewmembers of this particular ship had decided amongst themselves, probably taken from a civilization that he had plundered long ago when making a name for himself, though none could ever decide what the rather intricate design on the breastplate represented. All the same, it was obviously old from use and not merely sitting on a shelf somewhere, while having been carefully taken care of. Still, the man stands, arms crossed, his eyes never looking away from the enemy on the horizon.

While the armor had seen much more use then anyone could care to imagine, it had been far too long since he had need for it, ever since coming to the Fortress.....

Surely, you feel it.....

"Indeed I do. I admit, it has been far too long." The Admiral replies to....seemingly no one, as the crew glances at one another. They had, however, long ago agreed to ignore this sort of thing, for their own health and safety.

Perhaps enough to go forth after this battle and go on?

"Bah, after all this time you still yet believe I can be tempted. That time has passed - all I expect out of today is that we simply wipe away a mere bother from this world."

Then shall the wind smile down upon you, right into the waters below.

"Thanks to you, that will never come to pass."

Unfortunately...

"Enough." The Admiral sternly replies, slightly louder then before, albeit still in the calm, chilling tone. Taking off the silly feathered hat, he tosses it aside, and looks back at the wheelman. "Stay steady, and be sure everyone knows to stay on the plan. These miserable troops aren't worth the bother of trying anything too exquisitely complicated. Strike hard, fast, and efficient. If this fails, it would be the fault of the others, not of us. Understood?"

"Aye, Adm'ral. Hear that lads!? Let's go an' give'm hell! For the Fortress!!!" The pirates on the ship cheer heartily,r aising their weapons into the air, as the other ships hear this and join in on their own. Grunting with disgust, the Admiral turns his attention back to the horizon.

The battle may as well be routine, but the fallout....that would be most interesting.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan had come here alone. He decided to travel aboard a small merchant ship heading towards the capital of the Alliance in hopes of sating their greed and providing for their families. When the small ship came to witness the great pilgrimage of the Alliance navy, Jordan knew his time with these simple people had come to an end. The Fortress had just begun engaging them as well, a battle would soon shake the sea. That's why Jordan was here in the first place.

As of now, Jordan had taken leave of the merchant ship and headed towards the closest vessel he could reach. With the unnatural ability to control and harness wind to his liking, the warrior found himself with the strength to leap great distances. Something as extraordinary as jumping several hundred feet was something he had done for years. As he began his descent towards what appeared to be a ship under the banner of the Alliance, the warrior dressed in nothing more than a green breastplate and two forearm bracers grabbed his spear and prepared his own attack.

But Jordan didn't hate the Alliance. He had no greater a grudge than the next man. It was a lost dream that Jordan fought for. He once chased a dream to become the greatest knight in all the Alliance. But when he saw the true face of his dream, what it meant to be a knight really meant, he left his dreams to die. To be a knight was to lose your personal will and let yourself be controlled by a invalid wearing a crown. All these years later, he never thought he would attack the Alliance like this. It was almost comical. Jordan swiftly landed on the deck of a smaller Alliance ship, surrounded by baffled soldiers and sailors alike.

"If anyone here as a desire to live I would suggest you get yourselves to a lifeboat." He said, preparing himself for a fight with grunts who could never hope to win.

Jordan wasn't in this war for Selena, Admiral Juno the Fortress or anyone he had the pleasure to call friend. He fought so no more young people would find themselves slaves to kings who saw them as resources or servants.

[Steel Samurai]

Steel stood on the prow of The Maiden's Tresses, his keen eyes darting from one Alliance vessel to the other, counting them as they appeared over the horizon. He sniffed the salty air. It would smell of blood before the day was out. He shifted his weight. It had been long since he had worn this armor. Not since the First Dorm war had he donned this Roslen Armor over his normal assassination garb. But the weight was as familiar to him as the face of an old friend. How many hours had he spent in it, fighting for the very kingdom and the very man he now fought to destroy . . . He drew his blades, inspecting them, ensuring they were fit for the bloodbath that would follow. They were. The Dualist Blade glowed blue, slightly. Steel's intentions for the battle were just.

The main fleet would try to board the Alliance vessels, if possible, and capture the ships and their booty, rather than simply sending them to the bottom of the ocean. But not Steel's four galleon squadron. Their job was to punch a hole through the weakest part of the Alliance fleet, allowing the transports to land while the rest of the Fortress Navy engaged the remainder.

Wait. A green speck flashed into the air, plunging onto the deck of a small ship near the front. Steel narrowed his eyes, and pulled a telescope out of a small compartment in front of him. He put his eye to the small end and pulled the larger end away from him, then twisted it slowly, focusing. He slowly smiled. That sonuvabitch. Well. Best not to keep Khuffie waiting.

"Ready the forward cannon."

His first mate, a tall, black pirate clad in only a pair of baggy canvas trousers, yelled "READY THE FORWARD CANNON!"

Two of the best gunner teams in the Fortress scrambled to perform his command. In less than thirty seconds, the cannon were loaded and ready. Steel turned from the bow and leapt to the rigging, climbing quickly to the crow's nest. He put a spyglass to his eye and surveyed the armada before him. There would be no going back from this. Should the Fortress lose . . . it was likely they would never rise again as they had been. They should be getting paid more. There. Steel could tell, by closing his eyes, that the number of auras was least dense there. About half a mile from the western flank. He quickly descended to the deck. Normally this kind of scampering about in a full set of armor would be quite dangerous, but Steel's personal set was made of an alloy that was a third as heavy and twice as strong as the beaten iron typically used. In addition to this, he had had the armor enchanted so that should he fall into the ocean, saying the word "rosebud" would cause the armor to instantly disintegrate, allowing him to swim freely to the surface. But he had not had to use it yet. Obviously. He took the helm from the pilot, steering the ship directly towards the weak point in the flotilla's formation.

Closer, closer.

Half a mile.

A quarter of a mile.

The Alliance ships in the area began to turn, readying to unleash a broadside on the small vessel.

"FIRE!" Steel yelled. The two forward cannons boomed, hurling two massive iron balls towards the ships in front. The hunks of iron arced through the air, one smashing the mast into pieces, the other blowing a hole the size of a carriage in the side of the vessel.

* * *

Thirty Seconds Earlier

An alliance sailor dashed into the gunpowder room and grabbed one of the large powder cartridges needed for the cannon. He dashed back out again, only to feel the ship rock under the impact of a cannon ball. A splinter flew past him, cutting a deep gash in his arm. He turned.

"Oh Shi-"

* * *

The ship exploded in a firey ball. All hell broke loose.

[Goose]

The battle had begun, and Goose was so far away from combat, it felt like a horse had started to eat his shoe. He was bored. So very bored. Nothing to do in this Ship. It had no fire power, no real captain, just a first mate given a boring task.

“Here you go lad, sail this thing and see how you go”

So Goose decided to change the situation a little. To make it a little bit more fun.

“Vessel that is weak, Vessel that is weak, fight like a teenage mortal combat freak.”

The transport didn’t exactly change much. But it did gain a voice. A loud voice. A loud squeaky voice. A Voice so loud and so squeaky, that its very essence screamed “FATALITY!”

So now the ship had a mouth. And the ship could be heard from the shoreline, so those in the either navy could hear it loud and clear.

And slowly, as the mouth listened to the instructions given to it by its new master, a certain skeleton, it started to chant things out like

“YOU ALL NOOBS! I PWN YOU ALL!”

And

“Mum, I’ll eat my dinner in my room, go away!”

And other such soul destroying statements. and taunts.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan, gripping his spear tightly, looked around him quickly. They seemed skilled but he felt confident still. With a swing of his spear, he created a blast of wind that sent the men on the port side of the ship flying off the deck. The other crew looked on in amazement and horror, witnessing a feat far from the ordinary. Jordan wasn't here for killing, that wasn't his problem. Leave it for someone else, someone with an apathy towards life, a grudge or even blood lust. Let the filth take care of filthily things.

The soldiers on the vessel regained their composure and charged at the warrior in green. It didn't matter to them the extent of Jordan's power, he was a necessary kill. Jordan swiftly dodged their clumsy yet forceful strikes and knocked the two of them down with the side of his spear's shaft. This was taking far too much time than necessary. He thrust his spear into the main mast of the ship, which he was conveniently located by when he landed. The massive structure of wood began to splinter in several different places as Jordan forced an immense amount of air pressure into it. Jordan pulled his spear out and punched another soldier while in the motion. He ran to the port side of the ship and leaped into the air once again. With the structural integrity of the mast compromised, the large wooden fixture began to fall apart to pieces and leaving the ship damaged by debris and dead in the water. If that ship had lifeboats, now would be the time to use them.

One ship was dealt with, a good start for the first 4 minutes.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

Sitting in the path of the incoming pirate navy laid a large ship-of-the-line warship, the Inevitable, put into just such a position by Khuffie's tacticians. The ship had sailed into position with it's port broadside exposed, half of it's 74 guns out and ready to fire. The ship's captain stood up on deck and watched as the incoming pirate fleet made it's way through the lesser Alliance ships. He smirked as he walked up and down the upper decks of the ship, seeing that the men were ready at their stations, the cannons loaded for an onslaught.

"Those damn pirates are foolish," he mused, "Thinking they can get pass the Inevitable alive."

"Fire!"

Cannonfire ripped into the starboard side of the Inevitable. The captain, startled, turned to see that one of the smaller alliance vessals had fired upon them. No though, it was not an Alliance ship, though it flew Aliiance colors. The men aboard had discarded their Alliance uniforms and swiftly boarded the Inevitable. The cannoneers were overrun, and any soldier who would have put up a fight a was swiftly killed. Pirates swarmed in through the holes in the hull and onto the deck itself. The captain of the Inevitable himself tried jumping ship but was grabbed from behind. He was soon face-to-face with a white-haired young man bearing a large blade.

"Do not consider running for more than a second," the swordsman growled.

The swordsman dropped the captain unceramoniously to the deck. The captain shook in fear.

"Who are you?"

"I am Ken Miyamasa, the Platinum Wolf. And now, the captain of this vessal."

Ken motioned for one of the pirates to tie up the former captain, along with any remaining live crew members.

"Quickly now, let's use these cannons the Alliance has been so kind to prepare for us!"

After a long series of explosions, several of the Alliance ships between the Inevitable and the pirate fleet had recieved a heavy shower of cannonfire.

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow had finally returned home and saw, to his dismay, that the festivities had started without him. He had just returned from a mission which he was spontaneously sent on with a group of Alliance soldiers. Where were those soldiers? Once the mission was complete, he disposed of every last one of them and tossed their corpses into the sea a day away from Olimandias. Piloting this ship -- stolen from tribesmen that tried to kidnap him, whether or not they got home safely was their own problem -- on his own was admittedly difficult, but he was managing. He hadn't seen all those other people take the wheel just to not learn a few things about sailing. There was the matter of getting to dry land however, what with two massive sea armadas waging war with each other. It was a shame, he was hoping to get back earlier so he could sabotage some Alliance defenses and make things easier for the dorms. Oh well, this unified assault didn't have much of a chance of failure anyway of they played their cards right. And now Shadow would have to play his own card, a Drumpf card: his "affiliation" with the Alliance which they still believed he had.

It was thankful that this ship was fast and that the wind was with him, as he sped past the two Dorm ships belonging to the Woods and the Canyon. They looked like they were about to fire on him, until they saw him waving to keep their weapons trained on their enemies. He was lucky he was recognizedad an ally, something the Canyon won't be so curtious about once this is all over he was sure. His ship was the first to hit the shore, and he wasted no time hopping to the ground and darting for the capital.

Once in the town, he met with his fellow Special Ops, who had no idea what to do. They wanted to be rid of the Alliance, having been fed up with their rule as much as Shadow's hometown. But they weren't sure if this was the time, not sure of the nature of the attack. When Shadow filled them in however, they were more than willing to throw a few monkey wrenches into the Alliance's defenses. They would destroy armaments around the town and seal off exits both casual and secret, leaving not much room for the Alliance to run but plenty for the Dorms to get in through and wreak havoc. They would also kill any Alliance troops that got wise and tried to stop them.

Now that the sabotage had been set in motion, Shadow rushed over to where his Dorm ship was going to set anchor, ready to join his own dorm in the fray.

Edited by Shadow_Link, 17 March 2009 - 03:12 AM.

[Crimson Lego]

Watching the fleet continue to sail closer, Leo heard the distinct roar of cannon fire and, a few moments later, one of the Alliance ships exploding and destroyed That's what I'm talking about. Hurrying back down the ladder, he began to give orders.

"Prepare for impact! The Alliance ships could hit us any second!" he ordered. As he spoke, more cannons were fired, and another ship went down. This is going better than I thought.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan swiftly landed on the second ship and went straight to fighting off it's crew. A couple of sailors attempted to double team him but found themselves receiving blows to the face. A spear would not be necessary when fending off such attacks. Unlike the last ship, this vessel had multiple masts, disabling this ship would take more effort. Another group of men appeared, mostly soldiers this time, equipped with short swords and small buckler shields. A gladiator intimidation. Jordan took his spear and kicked it into the air, sending the steel pole weapon spinning as it rose quickly above it's wielder. He rolled under the warriors who had come to apprehend him, childishly mocking them as he rolled through the middle of them. As he quickly got to his feet, he reached out his hand to call back his weapon using the wind to guide it's return. The soldiers, facing the man in green armor didn't notice that the spear was spinning towards them. The weapon made a hasty return and dealt critical blows to the soldiers, slicing and bashing it's way back.

Jordan smiled as he grabbed his weapon.

"You like that trick? I made it myself." He said mockingly to the soldiers who had fallen.

They would die from their wounds, but they wouldn't be coming back up any time soon. The main mast stood over the ship and cast a shadow on the deck. Jordan threw his weapon at the wooden structure and pieced the mast through. Once again using the wind's aid in his attack, he caused more damage than humanly possible (a fairly large hole shifted more to the right), resulting in the slow collapse of the structure. As it fell, it damaged the port side of the ship and the top portion of the front mast. However, the back mast had to be dealt with before he could leave the ship and get on to another one. Jordan rushed to his weapon, which had stuck itself into the ship's deck and headed towards the back of the ship. However, he was met with a surprising contender, a relatively large knight with a sword you could swear was compensating for a part of his anatomy and large shield. He grunted and shouted inexplicable words. A berserker.

"Looks like this ship is gonna hold me back a little." He murmured to himself as the alliance ship sailing by fired off it's cannons at a ship in the distance.

Edited by JRPomazon, 19 March 2009 - 11:59 PM.

[Steel Samurai]

A cannonball screamed through the air, smashing into the side of the Natalie Portman's Breasts the smallest ship in the Alliance Navy, yet, inexplicably, Khuffie's favorite. It began taking on water quickly, and navy sailors began leaping into the brink, where they were picked off by the pirate sharpshooters clinging to the rigging of the Venus's Bosom like treefrogs catching flies. But that, sadly, was the exception. The pirate armada was, slowly, and at great cost, losing ships to the Alliance Navy's greater numbers. The wind was against them, making it difficult for the pirate vessels to board the enemy ships. Pirates being a naturally greedy lot, they were reticent to cause too much damage to the enemy ships when they could be boarded and plundered. But if they did not do something soon, there would be no pirates left to plunder.

* * *

"FIRE!" The first mate of The Maiden's Tresses yelled. The twin forward cannon boomed, smashing into the hull of the ship before them. The other four galleons of Steel's squad had almost cleared a path for the transports to the shore. Only two galleons remained between the Maiden's Tresses and open sea, and one of them now had two gaping holes in its hulls, and was already noticeably lower in the water. The gunners moved quickly, efficiently, cleaning the rifled barrel with a brush made of horsehair, opening the canvas bag, pouring the black powder into the barrel, ramming the cannonball in, then wheeling the carriage back to the gunport. Steel motioned for the pilot to take the wheel, then opened the trapdoor to the hold. He slid down the wooden ladder and walked up to the gunners, standing beside them, watching. The cannon boomed again. The volume of the roar at this proximity was deafening. Steel tapped the head gunners on the shoulder. They turned to him, their faces blackened by the black powder and smoke.

"Change crews." He said.

They shook their heads and pointed to their ears. Working the guns truly had deafened them, at least for the moment. Steel pointed at the crews and made a circular motion with his finger. The pirates nodded and tapped all the gunners on the shoulder, motioning them to go. The fresh crew came down from above decks, passing the others on the ladder. Blood trickled out of the ears of most of the men. Steel returned to the top deck. The galleon in front of them was inoperable, its crew floating on wreckage in the water, sitting ducks for the pirates. The other four galleons were arranged, two on either side of the stretch of open sea cleared, each attached to an Alliance ship, in the midst of a bloody deck combat.

In a few moments, the two Galleons closest to the shore had decimated their target's crew. There was now a corridor for the transports to pass through, walled by Fortress Galleons. The only obstacle remaining was that single Alliance Brig at the end of the corridor. The Fortress Galleons had split their crews in half, keeping one half on board the original vessels, and sending the other half onto the Alliance vessel just captured. Now there were four vessels on each side, each turning their cannon on the last Alliance ship. The mission was as good as over. Steel motioned to his first mate, who lit a flare, the prearranged signal for the transports to begin to make their way to the shore, while the Fortress attempted to finish off the Alliance Navy.

Steel looked up in the sky. The wind, formerly blowing from the shore to the sea, had suddenly gone still. Steel narrowed his eyes. Something was not quite right. The wind suddenly picked up again, but this time it blew from the sea to the land, in the favor of the Fortress pirates.

The report of over one hundred small cannon echoed across the sea. All 8 of the ships acting as the walls to the passage for the transports had fired off a volley at the last Alliance ship at the end of the passage. It didn't have a hull anymore. The transports, filled with troops from the Lost Woods and Ikana Canyon had entered the far end of the passage.

The sky suddenly darkened. The wind had brought storm clouds, and, with them, rain. Lightning arced out of the sky, striking an Alliance ship on the far flank, setting the mast on fire. Thunder followed closely behind it. The passage was full of the transports now, about half of the total number now within the passage. Something was missing, out of place. It had been too easy. Much too easy. Steel had barely lost a man so far, and he wasn't about to attribute it to his superior leadership skills. Why hadn't the Alliance commander sent reinforcements to this point in the line? There were plenty of ships not engaged at all. And the thinness of the line at this point had been almost too good to be true. If there had been one less ship, Steel would have suspected a trap. A trap . . . Nearly all of the Dorm transports in one place, where before they had been scattered throughout the fleet. No reinforcements. Shit. He had walked straight into it. The Maiden's Tresses was at the front of the line of transports. Steel leapt up to the aft rigging, shouting "FULL SAIL AHEAD!" The urgency in his voice was obvious to the crew, who leapt to perform their orders as if they had suddenly received a liquid injection of caffeine. He looked wildly around, searching for the source of the ambush. Nothing immediately visible. He closed his eyes, and immediately his eyebrows shot up in surprise. An immense aura floated above. Steel opened his eyes and looked. Yes, an small dark dot was barely visible against the angry grey stormclouds.

A lone figure standing in midair looked down upon the flotilla below him. A cruel smile on his lips, he extended his hands. A black pinprick appeared between them, and then began to grow exponentially. The man was dressed in a dark purple overcoat, trimmed with gold, and a tricorner hat sat atop his snow-white hair, the same color as his beard and pupilless eyes. Two blades of different shapes were sheathed in the belt under his coat. When the black orb was the size of a house he gave it a shove, and it fell down towards the fleet below him.

There was not enough time. The black orb hit the water between two transports with a splash. Two woodlanders, one on each transport, looked at each other quizzically. One of them, a 9 foot tall monster clad in white fur, shrugged its shoulders. The dark orb was gone.

Steel stared at the point in the water where the orb had sunk for a moment, his heart pounding. A minute passed.

The lookout in the Crow's nest of Venus' Bosom peered through a spyglass at the transports.

It was coming. "ABANDON SHIP!" Steel yelled, knowing it would do no good. He dashed to the prow and leapt. The shockwave caught him in midair. Steel twisted, faced with the sight of an immense black dome rising above him, and then fell to the water below him.

The lookout scrambled to his feet and put the spyglass to his eyes, staring at the place where the transports had been. A glimpse of the black orb, big enough now to cover the entire corridor and many ships outside of it, and there was only the wreckage of ships and unstirring bodies, some with arms and limbs blown off or cut off by flying wreckage, others merely with every organ in their body turned to jelly by the gigantic force of the shockwave. Less than a third of the transports remained untouched. The entire southern flank of the Alliance navy was in disarray. Many of the ships not directly affected by the explosion had smashed into each other, driven by the shockwave.

Miles above the battle, the figure laughed, his white teeth flashing against his blue skin. His voice boomed out into the stratosphere.

"Sink into Oblivion!"

Cervantes turned, and flew towards the land.

Edited by Steel Samurai, 20 April 2009 - 12:29 AM.

[Crimson Lego]

As the transports sailed towards the land, Leo watched as the Forsaken ship fired at one of the last ship in a passage cleared by the fleet. His transport, the 604, led the rest of the Lost Woods ships towards the shore. Turning to his crew, he raised his hand to give the signal to land.

Then, he noticed the wind had changed. What the... Looking ahead, he thought he saw a strange hovering, then a black dot fall from the sky into the water. Seconds later, Leo felt the rumble of an...earthquake. Seconds later, one of the Forsaken ships exploded and the white figure flew away. The wave struck more than half of hte transports, and Leo was knocked off his feet.

Getting up clumsily, he was shocked. Much of the fleet was destroyed, mostly from sailing into each other. Only a few of the transports stayed unscathed, and Leo was on one of them. Shit. We're dead. Then, realizing that they had to land, Leo took command and yelled, "Forward!" Soon, the transport, followed by 4 others. Sailing up onto the shore, he leaped off the transport, axe in hand. "For the Woods!" he roared, raising his weapon. Other soldiers from the Lost Woods also leapt off, swinging their weapons. Up ahead were Alliance soldiers, coming in large numbers. We better beat them. Making 1 last prayer, he charged forward, axe ready.

Edited by Leo Crimson, 20 March 2009 - 03:05 PM.

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow had just made it to the shore when he noticed the sudden attack. All he could see was a black ball forming in the water between the Fortress and Alliance navies. "What in the!?" The wind generated by this massive attack nearly blew him off his feet; he held onto his hat to prevent it from getting blown away. "Such incredible dark power! But that definately isn't the Dreadlord's aura... who did that!?" he thought aloud. Could this have been an Alliance trap of some sort? No, that wasn't likely, their own navy suffered just as much damage as the Fortress'.

He tried to sense the source of the aura, but the vile energy of that dark ball was still present in the air... it would take him a moment to navigate his sixth magic sense through it. When he succeeded though, his attention was drawn to a black figure hovering in the sky, heading for dry land.

"I can't let such power go unchecked. I need to see what his deal is, we can't let our only chance to trash the Alliance get spoiled by some random attacker." Activating his magic boots, he took off in the man's direction. Was he friend or foe? Shadow would soon know.

[Goose]

Goose was about to create another comical device for his transport, ,but was interupted by a big blue ball of energy. Ignoring the phalic reference waiting to be said, Goose decided that land was probably the better place to be, and since his transport had nearly reached the shore, thanks to a lot of "MOVE OUT THE WAY NOOB!" from the mouth of the ship, Goose made a leap through the air to land on, well, land.

With a plonk, he left his loudmouth transport behind to land in the middle of a game of hold'em that a group of gards were playing.

"Mind If i play boys?" He inquired as he unsheathed the Jawbone of an asshole.

[Steel Samurai]

Keel stood at the bow of the ship, arms crossed. The usual lofty smile was missing from his face, replaced by an indignant scowl. Cervantes had been the last thing on his mind ploughing through these seas.

"Wow. Really, Cervantes?" He said aloud to no one in particular, shaking his head. "What the fuck do you know about Oblivion..." He trailed off as he turned around to his new companion.

Steel stood off to the side of the ship, his hands gripping the rails tight and his eyes gazing across the ocean towards the shore. There had been but a moment before Steel's ship was obliterated when Keel had appeared through a portal in the floor, dragging Steel down with him. Keel wasn't entirely sure if Steel was worse off for having his ship destroyed or being rescued by someone he didn't particularly like. At all.

Regardless, Keel called out to the pirate, "What now? Remain on the ship, or take a quick trip to the shore?"

Steel closed his eyes and clenched his fist, then brought it down on top of the railing. It splintered. He exhaled, very slowly, opened his eyes, and turned to Keel.

"Get me to shore."


* * *


The most powerful man in the world sighed. It had been such a stressful day. First the uprising in Vanadiel, and now this . . . upstart invasion. He walked down the marble corridors of his palace, lined with busts of himself, heading for the northeast wing. The palace, built upon the highest hill of Olimandias, was shaped like a giant 'K,' and built in the style of the ancients, which had lasted only in ruins. The man believed that by modeling himself after them, he could attain to their greatness, and, indeed, by the accounts of many, he had come close.

He stood before a large oaken door. A peaceful sigh escaped his lips, and he smiled, the corners of his black goatee distorting at the unaccustomed expression. Behind that door was his inner sanctum, where he didn't have to worry about women rejecting him, or grannies beating him up. Where girls would show him their boobs for nothing, and where he could unleash his childish side, and revel in being called "Anoofie" by Keira. With Natalie dead, slain by that bastard skeleton, the man had had to settle for his second choice, the slightly less beautiful (in his eyes, at least) Princess Keira Knightley. On the other hand, Keira had never cheated on him the way Natalie had.

Only a few inches of wood stood between him and bliss. He closed his eyes, a beatific expression lighting his face, and he shoved the door open, stepped in, (tripping over the step) felt around for a second, closed the door, and opened his eyes . . .

His expression fell as he took in the sight before him, and a sort've whiny groan escaped his lips.

"Keira! What are you doing with that . . . that old pirate?"

The woman in question looked up from where she had been nuzzling a familiar blue skinned figure, a surprised expression lighting her face. She turned beet red and dashed out of the room into her private quarters. The "old pirate" in question downed a gobletful of red wine and smacked his lips, setting down the jewel encrusted gold drinking vessel down on the mahogany table in front of the pink couch upon which he was seated.

"Not bad, that. Never as good as a good stout Jamaican rum, but not bad, nonetheless." His voice was deep and harsh, the familiar piratic accent tempered by something just a bit . . . classier. And more evil. "Thirty-five years, ey Khuffie. Twenty-five years since ye imprisoned me in that dark, dank magical prison. Twenty-five years I spent rotting in there." He laughed, a short, barking sound. "That be a quarter of a normal man's life, Khuffie. Were I not immortal, ye'd have taken a quarter of me life. And so, when they came t' me, offerin' your little deal, I jumped at the chance. But now that I've been free, I don't think I'll take kindly to goin' back. Aye, and I feel a pow'rful enmity t'wards them who put me in there in the first place."

Khuffie gulped.

"Were I a lesser man, ye'd be dead already. But I'm a man of honor, and so ye be safe . . . for now. I'll be takin' my reward, and I'll be leavin' ye alone."

Khuffie sighed. He was not going to die, not yet anyway. Replacing his previous fear was now a terrible feeling of violation. His private sanctum, supposed to be safe from the outside had been invaded. It was like Cervantes had taken him and ass-raped him on the table right in front of Keira. (the cheating, harlotous wench) But there was nothing he could do. The pirate could rip him limb from limb with no effort.

He spoke through clenched teeth.

"Your treasure is waiting for you in the front hall. Get out of here. I never want to see you again."

Cervantes laughed. "Hargh! Don't get yer panties in a bundle. Believe me, I don't want t' see yer ugly face again either. Though I wouldn't mind seeing th' other end of THAT'n again." He glanced pointedly towards the door leading to Keira's chambers.

"GET OUT!"

The pirate got up slowly, and walked in a rather lazy fashion past Khuffie, who stared directly in front of him. He pause for a moment, then raised his fist quickly. Khuffie whimpered and shied away instantly. Cervantes laughed again and walked out.

* * *

A black hole formed on the sands of the beach. Steel and Keel slowly rose out of the portal. A small band of Alliance soldiers were fleeing from the few troops that had made it to land so far, numbering around 500 at the moment. There were perhaps 3000 more to come on the transports that had survived. Many a woman or man would be in mourning in the Woods and Canyon in the months to come. Steel calculated the number dead from the transports alone as being close to seven thousand. Khuffie must be desperate though, to sacrifice so many of his own ships to stop the force. The chances of the invasion succeeding were growing less and less likely with every Coalition soldier that died. Even with the uprising in Vanadiel and the other distraction Selena had arranged, the number of troops guarding Olimandias still numbered close to fifteen thousand. The only hope was that they surprised the enemy.

"Keel. I'm going to marshall the troops here, and then head to Olimandias when they're all here. Stay or go as you wish." Keel nodded. "Oh, and Keel? . . . Thanks."

* * *

Cervantes drifted up into the air, a sack of treasure hoisted effortlessly onto his back. He then sped off into the air, passing a rather confused looking boy clad in purple who seemed to be heading in the same direction he had just come from. From the ground, all one could see was a tiny dark speck, speeding off into the sky, heading for a destination as yet unknown . . .

[JRPomazon]

The chaos from the phenomenon had taken precedence over Jordan's bout with a particularly large knight. Everything fell to pieces, it was almost as if the world itself was destroyed from the inside out. Pieces of wood, pieces of people, pieces of cannons, everything was scattered and blown in every direction. Jordan was sent flying, propelled away from the destruction and sent into the sky. He was able to get a glimpse of the attack, a horrifying vision of death and defeat. But he got the chance to see a man suspended in air, a terrible being who smiled at his work below. It was after this moment that Jordan blacked out.

* * *

He woke up on a large piece of a ship's deck that had remained intact after the majority of the confusion died down. The sounds of screams echoed from the injured souls who remained afloat among the wreckage. Jordan inspected himself, all his limbs remained attached and even his weapons were present. A lucky break. No matter how you looked at it, the battle at sea was over. Nothing more to say or do here. Jordan slowly got to his feet and looked towards the land, the capital was his next destination. With a large leap, he shot into the air, hoping that he would be able to arrive on shore with minimal use of wind manipulation.

As he headed towards land, he saw something else flying fast towards him, a bird of sorts. The closer the blur got, the more human it looked. Human? It was a strange pale color, purple or perhaps blue, holding something. A bag? The vision passed him by quickly, it was fast and either didn't notice Jordan or didn't see him as someone to be dealt with. As Jordan quickly disregarded the phantom that passed him by, his spear which had by chance been sticking out from it's sling at an odd angle made a small cut into the cloth bag carried by the passing entity during the brief period. It would grow in size in a matter of minutes, releasing it's contents one piece at a time. A small, but possibly effective attack on the being known as Cervantes and Jordan not the wiser to what he had done.

Jordan landed on shore, yet another lucky break for him to be so fortunate as to not hop from ship to ship. He saw a crowd of men in the distance, a mismatched crew of thugs and gents alike. Not Alliance, most likely dorm forces. Jordan walked towards them, regrouping sounded like a good idea.

Edited by JRPomazon, 21 March 2009 - 11:22 AM.

[Crimson Lego]

Swinging his axe, Leo missed the Alliance soldier but managed to stab him. Withdrawing the weapon, he kicked the body aside and looked around. Many of the Lost Woods and Ikana groups were reforming, preparing for the assault on Olimandias. Looking towards the shore, he saw....Jordan?

"Jordan!" shouted out Leo, waving.

[SL the Pyro]

It wasn't long before Shadow saw the strange enemy again... but this time flying off somewhere else. This was frustrating; this man was faster in the air than he was on land. He'd never catch him like this.

A flicker of an aura caught his attention, seeing another spec in the sky intersect the first. This one he recognized, and he knew Jordan wouldn't be on land if the pirates or the other dorm forces weren't either on land as well or very close. It was time to join them. He changed course, headed in Jordan's direction.

--------------------

With his magic boots, it didn't take long for Shadow to reach the checkpoint. The Woodies that noticed him welcomed him with cheers, previously worried that he might still be fighting for the Alliance, but not anymore. He was a little surprised; usually he'd be laughed at or taunted by his comrades, or just ignored entirely, like a class clown. But in spite of that, they all knew his skills on the battlefield were nothing to laugh at, and they were going to need all the help they could get.

Knowing that he was in safety for the time being, Shadow gave his boots a rest; he had ran for a good while without resting to restore his magic power, and he would need to be at the top of his game for the battle to come. He scanned the crowds for Jordan's aura, and located him at the edge of the shore with what appeared to be a Woods soldier. He expected him to either be alone or with his own pirate comrades... but the pirates were clearly absent from the equation due to that mysterious attack. So why the sudden acquaintance? With nothing else to do until the Dorm soldiers were all on shroe and prepared for battle, he walked over to him with the intention of finding out.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan slowly walked along the shores of the mainland, his mind a little hazy from the sudden attack. It was comical, he tried so hard just to keep a few extra people alive and he ends up almost getting killed by whatever happened at sea. So many were dead now and the true battle had yet to begin. A fresh cut on his cheek had been dripping blood for some time now without him realizing it. He was overdoing it, at this rate his body would not survive more extensive wind manipulation. He would be dead if he fought and useless if he stayed behind. Jordan knelt down, grabbed some sand and smothered his wound with it, one of nature's many cures. Maybe he would run into Goose again before the big event, he had a way with healing him back in Hatena when he recollected the boney bard's body.

"Jordan!" shouted out Leo, waving.

Jordan looked up to find Leo Crimson, in good spirits no less. With a lazy smile and a nonchalant raise of his hand, he reciprocated the greeting. The two of them meet each other half way on the shore.

"Hey Leo, it seems you made it here alright." Jordan said.

Jordan looked on to find Shadow walking towards him and Leo.

"Shadow, good to see you as well!" He called out.

[Goose]

Goose had finished playing poker with the alliance troops. When he first showed up, they didn't know whether to kill him, or to play cards with him, so they did the latter. He robbed them of all their money, using a few interesting tricks, like turning a bad hand into a rubber live chicken, and then roasting said chicken over a fire created by burning cards.

They then wanted their money back, but instead of giving it to them, he hecked out their eyes and ate them for dinner. Tasty.

[Crimson Lego]

"That I did, and so did you," replied Leo. Turning towards the land, he directed his troops up the shore, towards Olimandias. Members of the Lost Woods obeyed quickly, weapons at the ready.

"Alliance soldiers are retreating quickly, but they still exist in great numbers. If we are to take the capital, we must cripple their army first. Wanna help?" he asked. Looking again towards the interior, he saw a few Alliance soldiers standing their ground, combating warriors from the Woods.

Edited by Leo Crimson, 26 March 2009 - 05:35 PM.

[JRPomazon]

"Well damn, why else would I be here? Standing around and twiddling my thumbs?" He asked as he began to walk back to the rest of the troops.

[Steel Samurai]

Steel stood on the top of a rock buried in the sand, watching the last of the troops and supplies being unloaded from the transports. He gazed out to sea. He couldn't tell how the sea battle was going right now, but it was anyone's guess. There had been comparatively few pirate vessels lost to the explosion compared to the transports and Alliance vessels, so the accident may have actually worked in the Fortress' favor. Not that it would matter much should the decimated Coalition forces be destroyed completely.

The troops were all on the beach. Some of the hardened Ikana skeletons had already started to dice for the clothes and equipment of the dead Alliance soldiers. There was no time for this. They needed to start moving now if they were to reach Olimandias at the same time as Selena. It was a week's worth of forced marching from here to the capitol. Steel intended to do it in 3 days. Surprise was their only chance at victory.

It was time. Steel's voice roared over the troops.

"ATTENTION! SOLDIERS OF THE ARMIES OF THE DOMINIONS!" The men (and women) looked up. Every eye was on him. He cleared his throat. "I am afraid that General Yorrick and General Bill were both, sadly on transports that sunk. Therefore, as the highest ranking and most senior officer her, I shall take command until we meet with Selena. We have a long way to go, and must leave immediately. You are all, obviously, still under whatever dorm officers are left. I need to speak to the most senior of them immediately. Get busy. We move out in half an hour."

Steel descended from the rock. He noticed Jordan, sitting nearby twiddling his thumbs. He walked up to the green clad warrior.

"Good to have you back, Jordan. Tell me what happened later on. For the moment, I need you to scout." Steel looked at the tiny cuts covering his body. "As soon as you're up to it, I need to know where the nearest Alliance forces are."

Steel walked up to the other officers. The war had just begun.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan grabbed Steel by the shoulder, forcefully getting the pirate's attention.

"I'm going to want some answers myself Steel and they better be good ones. Everything from miscast teleports to that guy who destroyed the fleet." He said, irritated about a number of things. He quickly regained his calm demeanor, releasing Steel's shoulder. He was mad, but far from angry enough to pick fights.

"Give me some time to patch myself up a little and I'll be your lookout."

[Crimson Lego]

Finishing off the 2nd soldier, the last one began running back towards the main army, crying 'Mommy! Mommy!'. Amused, Leo heard someone's raised voice and turned to see the pirate from the meeting. As the man called for redeploying and meeting with the officers, Leo signaled for his troops to join the rest and walked over to the pirate, whom was also standing with Jordan. Hearing his former companion give the leader a rather tough time, Leo clapped him on the back.

"Don't worry, man, we arrived back in one piece," he said to Jordan. "Sir," he greeted the leader. "My 2 commanders died when that person," he said, pointing up at the sky, "Blew up half our transports. As of now, I am the unofficial commander of the Lost Woods troops. Your orders, sir?" he asked.

[Steel Samurai]

Steel clapped Jordan on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "All in good time. I promise, by the end of the day you'll know as much as I do. About those things, anyway."

He turned to Leo, listened to what he had to say, and nodded.

"Just keep your troops in line and their morale up until we make it to Olimandias. We have a hard march ahead of us."

He turned back to Jordan.

"Tell me when you're ready."

He moved on to meet the Canyon officers.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan nodded and took a seat on the ground. It felt good to get off his feet for a little bit. He inspected his own face, there were plenty of cuts but they had no substance to them. They were superficial at best, meaning his was in better condition than he thought. A sigh of relief signals his positive discovery. How many minutes should he stay like this? 5? 10? 15? Hell, he might be able to squeeze an hour if he really wanted.

No, he would take want he needed and that was all. This wasn't a time or place to indulge in selfish wants. He closed his eyes and rested and when he opened them, he would become the lookout. It felt nice.

* * *

Jordan woke up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the light quickly. He looked around him and noticed he was alone. Did the others go on without him? No, it was too noisy. The others were just not in his direct vision, he was facing the ocean after all. How long was he out for? Didn't matter, it didn't seem like to much time past. He walked towards the fortress troops and tried to locate Steel. He managed to locate him among the crowds of pirates and called out "Where should I begin looking?"

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow was starting to get stir-crazy, sitting on a sturdy tree branch that reached out to the beach a little. Sitting here and waiting for his men to get moving was the exact reason why he opted to work alone; he needed them, but at times like these they were more like dead weight. He wanted to get out ahead of his group so he could spot potential threats and possibly eliminate them, like Steel was having Jordan do. But to do that he needed to know the general path his men were going to follow, which meant they had to get moving.

But this situation is the only one that he wouldn't complain about. A fatal blow was about to be dealt to the Alliance, and his men needed time to recover and regroup after that mysterious man's attack on the fleet, which he would be sure to consult Steel about later. For now, he supposed he could be patient until things got rolling.