Round 1 Part B-Gisela [Archive]

Requiem of Insanity

03-17-14, 09:48 PM

The wind howled against the deck of the Blood Cry, the Salvarian vessel bobbing up and down against the merciless sea. Ship hands moved up and down the wooden vessel, the creaking of the wood as it dove into the waves splashing the deck making them all uneasy. Several small fishermen boats of various sizes formed a rag tag fleet around this one vessel, some smashing apart from the intensity of the ocean's wrath.

Catherine Remi paid them no heed. Her eyes were locked forwards into the fog ahead of her. Eiskalt's seas were dangerous and as unforgiving as the seamen had said it would be. Winter's rapture made the temperature teeth chattering cold, but the daughter of Cassandra Remi, blessed Dark Mother and ruler of the Cult of Blessed Torture refused to give into the elements. The Crimson Angel, named for her furled wings curled around her shoulders, scoffed at her generals who warned her of this bold plan.

Catherine had seen that the word bold meant something else in their tongue. Suicide was what they heavily implored upon her, desperately finding any way they could say as much without directly calling her plans as such. With a devilish grin she ordered the boats out. They would have one chance to assail these foes and attempt to destroy the massive cannon and reinforcements to the Eiskalt war effort.

Her intelligence informed her that an old sea dog by the name Torin Reahkari had taken the task to lead the fleet himself. The returning Black Sails Armada was no doubt being paid a hefty sum of money for their contribution to the war effort. The very notion of this plan had no doubt left quite the impression upon the woman. Pirates versus Serial Killers, Rapists, and Zealots. It was seriously the makings of non-fiction. However, her mother's stern orders were no children's fantasy. She needed to keep the Ixian Knights busy as she prepared to ascend to godhood. By trashing this fleet, striking them a blow they wouldn't recover from, it would show significant Cult presence in the war.

That meant Sei Orlouge and his rats would stick their noses in Eiskalt's affairs more closely than they should, elevating the heat off of Corone where her mother rested. This plan was the only option Catherine could see working. It risked her meager forces, and would probably be a major loss of life for the Cult. But these plans had worked in the past. Taking a page from her sister Aerith's book, she made sure Cult members infiltrated upon the Black Sails vessels. Whores, ship hands, and even one solitary captain all bent their knee the Dark Mother, prepared to give their life when the alarm was sounded.

Catherine felt her hands gripping the hilt of Hope's Requiem. The ax felt heavy in her hands, a desire to shed blood coming over her, a nervous twitch shivering her spine and causing her pain while she licked her lips. They were chapped and salty from the sea air, tangy with hints of copper. Her inner cheek was scarred from the multiple times she bit herself to draw blood to control her inner rage. She needed to shed blood, and soon, to keep herself in check.

"Mi'lady Catherine," a man said from behind her. Wings unfurling she turned to see one of her elite warriors kneeling three steps away. He too had the wings of divinity, a signifying mark that he was part of her elite guard, and one of the strongest warriors of the Cult. His curled black hair swayed in the breeze, and he looked up to her speaking succinctly.

"The Deathmarks are prepared mi'lady. You but need give them the offering of blood and they shall know their tasks." Catherine felt the splashing of the ocean against her leather corset. The pauldrons on her shoulders made tiny rivers of rain upon the deck when she moved. Her boots clicked against the hull as she approached the twenty-five creatures waiting below the deck. She eyed each one, seeing nothing of their flesh nor faces. They wore robes of pure black, gloves covering their fingers and masks of pure obsidian glinting in the moonlight.

"Excellent," she purred. With her hand gripped upon the ax, she raised it high for all to see. "You are mother's sworn elite!" She shouted into the howling gale. "Warrior's without peer! You will be tasked with the elimination of her enemies! Will you serve your mother!?" They said nothing, remaining stone still even in the swaying frigate. Catherine smiled lowering her ax to her other hand, tapping the cold metal against her hand.

"I bring blood to you. Find its scent divine, for it is birthed from my own flesh!" Cat dragged the smile of her ax across her palm, cutting it deeply. The sea air stung the wound like mad, but gritting her teeth she approached those standing before her. She lifted her hand up and flourished it at them, droplets splashing their masks. Even the smallest hint of her blood gave the Obsidian masks a dark red edge to it.

"Kill the captains, the officers, the navigators. Kill them all and make them leaderless. Kill them without compassion or mercy. Move from one to the other, and let nothing stand in the way."

They moved as one. Each foot completely in sync with the person forward, behind, and to the side of the them. Catherine looked out of the fog, catching the distant shadows of the ships in the night. The fleet was in her grasp. "Signal the Saboteurs to begin their work. Light their vessels on fire! Spoil their ammo! Kill them before they know what's happening. Strike them now!"

A large goblet of iron was placed upon the top of the frigate's bridge. Wood drenched in oil was tossed into the basin, before it was lit like an inferno into the night. Catherine felt her nerves grow raw as she looked to her own blood. It was getting harder to control her base needs to shed blood. Even her own was starting to have no effect. It needed to be a victims. Thankfully, tonight would give her a good supply.

"Raise my flag. Then have all Crimson Angels take to the sky. Crash upon the outer boats. We'll turn their ships against them if we have too. No prisoners. No play toys. Murder them all."

The angel at her side nodded, hollering orders as Catherine took to the sky with a beat of her mighty wings. She rose in the air, a master of flying even in the worst of conditions. She hovered just above the mast, smiling with nihilistic glee to see the coming battle. The men aboard the Blood Cry sang songs to the Dark Mother as they let fly her colors.

It was the Black Sails Armada banner, drenched in blood with sigils to the Cult's blessed tenants. She lifted her axe up, lowering her arm swiftly in an deadly swing. Like thunder in the night the cannons aboard her vessel, two forward facing cannons letting fly iron into the night air. She flew towards the enemy fleet, feeling in her blood the joy of battle building within her.

One way or another, verses would be added to her mother's song on this night.