12/06 We Welcome It

 "Captain Maetock Reave?"

A feminine voice calls out from the beach, its source being the hovering cloaked feline draped in Light.
(Agapiya)
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 If Reave says, "I'm gettin flashbacks."
 Maertock Reave says, "Sensible."
 Maertock would take a thoughtful drag from his cigar as he mulled upon the visitor's inquiries, the Captain of the Deep Company ambiently sipping from his delightful source of inebriation via rum as he glanced over the felinae for a time.

"The one and only. Well, close. Maertock, not Maetock. Nor Mattock or Murtock. Close, but no cigar. I am the Captain of the Deep Company, Lord Reaver of the South Coast, a pleasure to make your acquaintance and all such kindnesses."

The captain would bob his head lightly at that.

"Have you need of something?"
(Maertock Reave)
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"Ah! My apologies. I must have misheard the name. They did have a broken jaw, after all." Poor guy. "I have a message to deliver to you."

The next few moments are spent digging around in her pockets for said item, only for the cloaked figure to pull out an envelope enveloped in light to open and read.

"Kind on the surface, but malicious in nature. As is expected of a pirate. Guilty of forming a ruthless crew filled with those who rob and pillage on an almost daily basis just because they can." It is all said in a matter of fact way, as if she had no personal opinions on the matter.

"Raising and abetting those who would harness and wield the darkness as a tool and resource to bring decay and death to any who cross their path.

Does this all sound right so far?" A pair of golden eyes peer out from beneath her hood, but the feint presence of a smile in the only place her light magic did not shine through cannot be ignored.
(Agapiya)
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A glance is given to If after.

"Would you like to answer on his behalf?"
(Agapiya)
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If Reave asks, "Eh?"
The quartermaster was staring at the hooded lass the whole time through, though whether they were paying attention probably came into question as they took several long moments to fully respond. Drunk, perhaps? The short fellow certainly smelled of alcohol.

After a time, they finally tilted their head to one side. "Eh.. Ya got a neat lil' parchment there. Howsabout this. I'll answer ya question, if ya answer mine."

"Who were that bit o' paper from?"
(If Reave)
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 "The City of Light, of course."

Her head turns almost a full ninety degrees to look at the drunken pirate without the rest of her body bothering to do the same.

"You didn't think that the Light would simply allow you exist here peacefully forever, did you?" Her tone becomes almost sweet as she poses the question.

"Now. Are these accusations true, or not? Surely they are something your Captain would be proud and boastful of, if so."
(Agapiya)
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 "Sort of assumed that, but y'know. Gotta cover all m'bases. Information is one of those things that tends t'vary in value, but I like t'amass it noneth'less." They offered a slow nod, finding this a perfectly reasonable explanation for their words. Simple as that.

A glint of red flickered to life behind the helm. For just a moment. It didn't seem to be based in magic, but whatever it was it was gone in the next second. "Ya ain't wrong though."

"He's th'proud sort. Captain Maertock Reave, scourge of th'southern coast. He's raised a mighty fine crew o'folks here. Ya information ain't wrong." They repeated those words. Not wrong. The young alchemist glanced toward the large shark.

"But I think I'll let him give ya th'whole fancy speech."
(If Reave)
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 Maertock would snicker with dark amusement as the Captain of the Deep Company placed a cigar in his rows of serrated teeth; minty smoke rising from his dry, reddened gills as he offered a genial nod to the youth. Frankly, he'd gotten it almost perfectly right.

"That's a surprisingly accurate profile of my people. Slight errors though. I am kind on the surface, but my crew; me and mine? They're family. I'd kill for them, die for them, and I sure as hell live for'm. That's our code. I am absolutely, however, guilty of forming a ruthless crew filled with those who rob and pillage on an almost daily basis just because they can."

The reaver lord of the south coast liked the sound of that. He should get a business card for it.

"Raising and abetting those who would wierld darkness as a tool and resource, yep, that definitely adds up. I am a master of shadow magic after all. Decay and death to any that cross their path? That's dramatic, we're not even the most bloodthirsty entity in the islands."

The captain would waggle a finger at the youth.

"That would be the city of light. City of blinding light, perhaps. I could even tell you why I think so; I'm nothing if not a rhetorician who loves recalling moments of historical brutality."
(Maertock Reave)
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 She lingers above the sands with what could be perceived as a great deal of patience as If and Maertock speak to confirm the question that had been posed.

Yes, they were the pirate crew she had been looking for. Simple and plain.

The hand holding the letter shakes it about a few times, encasing it in the same light that came from her person. It is casually lobbed into the air soon after, only for her free hand to reach back for the whip on her hip and sling it forth with a great deal of control.

As expected, the letter is struck and severed into particles of gold that sprinkle down to the beach below.

"You're probably right. There are those in the City of Light who are blinded by it. Luckily for you, I am not from Osrona. I am a warden of the Light itself, come to purify the lands.

Whether or not that means you have to fall depends on how you answer my next question." Confident, or maybe just blinded by the Light that Maertock had mentioned. The whip recoils to wrap around her hand, and she points it back at the Captain.

"Will you allow me to purify that which you and your crew have corrupted with your misdeeds? If not, spit the second rate cigar out and draw your weapon."
(Agapiya)
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 Maertock would yawn as he leaned back in his seat, the Captain of the Deep Company snorting with amusement at the attempted boldness of the Felinae. In a manner, he could appreciate it; it wasn't every day he had a holy knight marching into the Reef trying to make demands.

"I am definitely right. Considering Alistair Pelleaux and his Astor compatriot eschewed racist comments at their guests to enrage them, then claimed they incited an attack and murdered innocent men in their cells, I daresay city of dim is better."

The Captain would snicker at that, leaning back as he tilted his hat down over his eyes while continuing to puff away at his cigar.

"Sounds like you fit right in though. Genocide is fine long as its colored white, yeah? Shit warden, I reckon. Anywho, dunno what gives every holy knight and their neighbor the idea that they can waltz up and demand a challenge like I care, but...."

Maertock would gesture to If.

"I don't work for anyone's pleasure but my own. And there's nothin'ta purify about my ilk, they've just been blessed by the deep. If, the warden makes a move, sink'm."

The captain would yawn.

"Now you could get taken to pieces here by my men, or you could sit down and have a chat. I've got no preference."
(Maertock Reave)
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 A single gloved digit rises up to poke into the darkness shielding her face and press into her chin as the figure contemplates the Captain's response.

There were others within the City of Osrona who would need to be straightened as well. But for now? Her intent had been made clear.

Her entire frame turns to If Reave now and the whip around her hand uncoils and droops low enough to thwap the sand beneath her floating figure.

"I understand. These are your men! Your warriors. Your army. It would be disrespectful of me to encase your mortal frame with Light before at least beating sense into them."

Take a seat and have a chat? It simply was not a part of her tight schedule.

A slow, deep inhale is taken, only for the iridescence surrounding her frame to amplify several times over. From a mixture of gold and silver to a spectrum containing elements from every piece of the color spectrum.

An aura of benevolence and rainbows,kept menacing only by the golden eyes peering out from beneath her hood as she prepares for combat.

"The ambitions of the Light aren't up for negotiation. Allow me to show you the extent of its Will."
(Agapiya)
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 If Reave says, "Ah.. Fun..."
 Nym whispers to Maertock Reave: Any idea...of whats going on?
 Maertock Reave whispers: A real, gen-u-ine hero has come for a visit.
Nym whispers to Maertock Reave: What's a hero?
 Maertock Reave whispers: A whole fool.

 Light. It hurt their eyes to look at. So many vibrant colors and shiny things about the cat lass in the hood.. They rolled their eyes behind the helm they wore.

What was it with the goodie two shoes and their fascination with shiny things?

The short quartermaster slowly floated a little higher in the air, 'standing' from their seat at the table to hover at eye-level with the feline. A glint of red could be caught beneath the helm again. This time a proper glow shone behind the eye-slits.

"Ya know, people have tried doin that. Beatin' sense inta me has never really worked out before." They said it casually, not even looking toward the glowing woman. Their path lead them across the sands, slowly drifting past the crates.

Did they expect her to follow?

They didn't mention it. But they continued to speak as if she would. "Ya folk from th'shiny city threaten me. As if I did anythin' wrong."

"Ya thinkin of m'father. And m'father's brother. Th'rest of th'crew. I'm just th'numbers man.." They grumbled under their breath, one hand reaching to the opposite wrist. Just to be sure. It was still there.

Their hand found the handle of Murtock's old pistol. "But go on, plead ya case lass. In th'depths there'll be no more air fer ya t'waste."
(If Reave)
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 Nym whispers to Maertock Reave: Huh...Nature doesn't have any of those.

 There was no air to waste in the abyss.

Here it felt as though the air were slipping away from the battlefield. The pressure started to grow immense over time, as though all the weight of the ocean was pressing down on them. And the air itself grew dim, filled with a haze of shadowy darkness.

If slipped into the black, blending in as well as any ambush creature ought in the dark. And slowly, ripples started to form in the darkened air. Tiny tears in reality, which spilled forth not only more shadow, but a tarlike sludge with an oil-slick sheen.

The quartermaster did not fight directly, for the most part. They were not built to fight directly. They were a vessel, to let the power of the Deep flood the world.

Nature withered, and light dimmed. She was a shining beacon in the dark, the perfect prey to fire upon with ease. If only closed the distance a few times, flying in close at an almost casual pace with Murtock's gun in both hands.

They leveled the barrel, and fired.

It was on those rare occasions that the quartermaster was actually struck. Hurt. Waters only briefly turned against them.

Sickening spores made them a touch dizzy. They frowned beneath the helm. Play time was over now, and it was time for her to drown. The short quartermaster focused their power within the pistol they held.

Beat some sense into them, would she? Cleanse them, would she?

They brought the condensed weight of the abyss down upon her form, forcing her to kneel within the sludge that coated the fields. The mithril barrel leveled straight for her heart, a flare of red glimmering behind the eye-slits of their helm. "Ya light-lovin types ain't seem t'ever understand. I ain't care who ya are. Who ya work with."

"None ofth'light in this world has any worth. It's all a waste o'time."

If's finger pulled back the hammer. Click. Their index moved to the trigger, to squeeze. Not yet firing, but a hair's breadth away from doing just that. "But so is talkin."

"I'll just let ya taste real power." And with that, BANG!

They fired a bolt of condensed darkness and gravitational force right into the feline's center of mass. The blast was more than forceful enough to send her flying, so far that If wouldn't be able to catch up if she ran.

The sickly black sank through her skin. It seeped like ink into parchment, spilling across her veins and wrapping about her circuitry. Staining every last bit with a cold, otherworldly darkness. Agapiya would find it hard to breathe, and often saw flashes of countless eyes whenever she shuthers. Whispers of madness and destructive intent flooded her mind.

If had brought the Deep One's Eyes upon her.
(If Reave)
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 Maertock would sift in the background like the shadow shark he was; the predator circling around the locale as his quartermaster sunk the hero with a display not unlike that of Murtock. It brought a sensation of dark warmth to his black heart to see the son become the father; truly his nephew had grown since his youth.

As If manifested the inky blackness of the Deep, the lord reaver of the south coast would take this time to soapbox as he stood upon Murtock Reave's grave, the stone memorial to Maertock's dead brother and first mate a monolith as shadows rose in the darkness of the treeline.

"I welcome ya fondly to Siren Beach, but here there be monsters. Ya know, we used'ta make Osrona pay tribute to us in exchange for protectin' their bridge from Achyonites. Robbed us a pretty penny then too, but the city of light didn't mind it none when it were convenient."

The captain would snort as he spread his massive arms out, a tide of darkness and black fog erupting nightmarishly in the wilderness as the local temperature dropped; sapped of light and life as the hero found themselves deep in the dark woods.

"We ain't still here cause we hide from trouble. We're still here because we WELCOME it. Don't make the mistaken presumption of assumin' Osrona's infallible; ain't nobody crossed me that hasn't been sunk yet."

A dark cackle that echoed like a monstrous beast's throughout the black fog that spread around the locale surrounding Agapiya.

"Or perhaps you have forgotten why it is wise to fear the dark."
(Maertock Reave)
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 She had undergone a mission that others who claimed to walk with the Light had failed to or ignored. What was worse-- she had done so without the encouragement or even knowledge of any other.

The Light Warden was a young woman with aspirations greater than her current physical frame could carry out, and that showed as the battle against If Reave went on.

Tendrils of darkness and screeches of despair ring out around them, striking at her various defenses and managing to stifle her ability to actually mend her wounds at the rapid rate she was normally capable of.

It hurt. But so did living in a world of wretchedness with the wicked.

As her constructs of nature fall, Agapiya opts against summoning more of the world's essence forth in favor of braving the rest of the battle herself. A mistake in its own right, but a selfless one.

The whispers of the Deep were something that nature itself never needed to be exposed to - even in times of desperation.

Perhaps she could rethink that strategy at a later point in time. For now? She raises her arms over her chest to brace for the impact of the cannon shot with blood already trickling from her face and what parts of her exposed frame could be seen.

A portion of Maertock's words reach her ears, but it seemed as though her own had never been heard.

She was not a knight of Osrona. She was a Warden of the Light. Even in defeat.

"No. no. no."

And then the impact smacks against her frame, coating her arms in a sickly black shade that seeps into her skin. In the same action, the felinae-like figure is sent soaring backwards into a more dense part of the forest, where she hastily makes her wounded escape.

The Dark was to be feared. But so was the Light. She would see to it.
(Agapiya)