We fought our greatest fight ever. We managed to over take the ship owned by the bright blades.
Scratched, wounded and bludgeoned Sven faced battle as ill prepared as he’d ever been. He only had a sword. His armor was in the hold of the ship and his shield was nowhere to be seen. Big Guthin hit him again and again with his walking stave that magically grew. And even then that was the least of his worries. The giant ogre Touk was the most fearsome foe on the ship. Sven felt outclassed by him and was glad Prestollion had squared up against him. That giant Dark Elf might be the only person who could stand up to Touk.
It was in one of the rounds of the bout that Prestollion struck him a mighty blow. So thunderous was the hit that the sound blended in with the actual thunder and lightning that flashed and echoed across the sea.
And nothing…. Touk shrugged it off like it was nothing.
Again Sven was harassed on all sides and it looked as though Prestollion too was getting flanked. When Prestollion was focused on Touk other members of this crew took advantage of the situation and would sucker punch him. The two brothers were the worst. Sven then decided that back to back was the best way to fight and he slowly crossed around the ship’s mast to stand next to the dark Elf.
Eventually it became Sven’s turn to take a swing at the ogre. In an all or nothing gamble Sven reared back his arm and struck with all of his righteous fiery.
And nothing…. Touk shrugged that off as well.
Lurching and rolling the ship rocked and forth. Such was the movement of the ship that even seasoned crewmen lost their footing. Some tumbled overboard into the sea; a lucky few got tangled into the ratlines. Touk was one of the unlucky ones. The storm and the sea did what Prestollion and Sven couldn’t.
Lucky for us there was a huge storm that helped dispose of their huge ogre. He got tosses over board. After that it was a fight freedom. Prestollion killed the last two of the brothers who had been giving him hell while chained to the ship. The named character’s left are big guthin leuwolf and the captain (hogar).
Wilhad saw the Moonsword leave Sniver’s hand and arc out to the open sea. Wilhad being a ghost couldn’t do anything to help in this temporal bashing of bones and flesh. And he wasn’t really sure if he would have helped in this combat even if he could have. After all it was Sven who had killed him.
The risk of losing the Moonsword though was too great. For as this deceased bard knew from the tales and songs he’d sung the Moonsword didn’t stay lost. It would find a new owner; perhaps someone evil like the orc Roargad who the Dragon’s tail mercenaries took the sword from.
Wilhad took a split second to assess the situation. It would have to be him to get the sword back. By reflexive instinct Wilhad thought “but I can’t swim I might drown” but then the realization of his state came back to him. “I’m already dead.”
The weight of steel falls quickly through salt water but even faster than that is spirit. This ghost of a man rushed through the water and eventually caught up to the Moonsword as it plunged downward.