Stormbreaker

[Falcon Darkflight]

(Solo)

The SSD Stormbreaker

It had been a long and perilous night for Langley, the petty officer of the Stormbreaker, Sol Deus’s finest and most elegant galleon, as he and the crew attempted to fix the hull breach that had caused them so many problems. Captain Flaresto had insisted on mooring the ship in an area most likely to obscure their position from their pursuers, and as they had traversed the rocky coastline ten miles south of the nearest civilized port they found that the jagged shoreline was causing more problems for them than first predicted. Firstly, the hull of the ship, as well designed as it may have been, was still wood. Not the ideal material to be tested against the sharp and solid chunks jutting out of the ocean. Secondly, the Stormbreaker was caught, ironically, in the midst of an oncoming storm that sent the already choppy waves haywire and pushed the vessel further into the realms of coast related trouble. This was causing the navigation crew headaches.

“Bulkhead, ten degrees starboard!” Langley barked, almost drowned out by the thunderous roar of the storm as lightning ravaged the dark skies above, the torrents of heavy rain hammering against the wooden navigation deck like a snare drumming a death rattle.

“Ten degrees starboard, aye!” The navigation officer acknowledged the order, wrestling with the helm to gain some sort of control over the rudder. Even in the rain, Langley could tell the effort required for this by the officer would make him sweat. These were severe conditions for sailing, too severe even for an officer of his experience.

“Langley, this is a problem. We need to get out of here, get to port and make repairs. The rudder isn’t coping well.” Captain Flaresto, dictating his thoughts to the petty officer, was stood behind Langley, observing every movement and command. He trusted his crew, but listened intently to their communications. In a storm as violent as this it paid to be cautious about who communicated what to whom.

“With all due respect, captain,” Langley turned, almost bellowing at Bane to be heard over all the background noise “We needed to do that YESTERDAY.”

“I’m fully aware of that Langley.” Bane’s retort was sharp and of the kind of authority a captain should impose upon his crew. “But if we had sailed into port yesterday and moored up, any number of SSD class galleons could have just sat a couple of miles off the coastline and pounded the docks with their guns, and we’d have no way to either attack or defend. This way, we hold out the night, and we make them think we’ve sailed around the island, and when they turn their backs we run for port. They’ll snoop around a bit but by the time they find us, we’ll be repaired and re-armed. The men need food and rest to focus. We can’t afford to have an inefficient crew.”

Langley remained silent as the storm descended into chaos around him. He thought Bane was optimistic about their chances, but he would not delegate to his commanding officer. Instead he turned back, and barked another set of navigational orders to the helm.

You’d better be right, captain, for all our sakes.

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Vorstock

Elexis Berlios was a happy woman. Despite being overdraped in layers of oilskin that would protect her from the harshest elements of the ocean, including a blisteringly cold northern wind that felt as if it were peeling the raw flesh off your bones, she was comfortable. Perhaps it was not as such the climate, but the circumstances of the mission that settled her.

Of course, her mission, the personal mission of Elexis, was a different one. Those cretins at the Devlar weren’t fit to have a command on any ship in the fleet, she thought to herself, as a small but rugged icebreaker butted aside any remaining hazards hampering the hull of the ship, before steering into the clear. She had earned her command, and intended to make this last, either way. Her orders from the Devlar, the government of Sol Deus, were merely a formality.

She cast her mind back to the day the Vorstock had sailed from Sol Deus, how a ragged collection of sailors and dockyard workers had lined the water filled concrete box, that had held her vessel for over two months, and watched as the second best ship in the fleet sailed into the winter sunset without so much as a cheer or a wave to accompany her loyal and perilous mission to seek and destroy the traitor. They either didn’t care, or didn’t know, what was going to happen. Bane Flaresto, the Basillisk of Fire, the flame she desired, was to be killed. That was the order. But, she would have her man, and if he refused, either way, Elexis won. It didn’t matter what the Devlar did to her. With Bane at her side, she would be powerful. With him dead, she would be a hero.

Now, in the makings of this most vicious storm, she reveled in her glory. As her brisk hand swept in a horizontal arc, a powerful gust of wind took the crest of a wave, crashing it into a nearby cove on the Corone coastline. The water was coated with filth that would not evaporate in the low temperatures and lift a sludge ring on both the Vorstock’s wooden hull and the jagged rocks the waves swept over as she smashed them into the cove. Her powers would eventually flush out Flaresto, wherever he was hiding.

“So, captain, again we sail to defend the fleet, and our honor, by killing the traitor!” Captain third rank Alexander Lugatti poked his head through the hatch, without permission as usual, and clambered up the ladder. Elexis shook her head, her soaked curly blonde hair buffeting in the wind. Everything was about defending the fleet, defending honor. These values were godhead for the Devlar and it made her sick.

“Indeed. Two weeks at sea. You’d better be prepared. Turn to starboard five degrees, hoist sails. I’ll take her round.”

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Stormbreaker

The small and confined navigation area at the front of the ship was becoming crowded, already holding Captain Bane Flaresto, Langley and numerous officers of petty ranks. Communication, a word with almost mystical connotations to everyone but Bane and Langley, was chaotic in the storm, but the orders were getting across eventually and the sailors were doing their jobs as best they could. The chilling wind was starting to get to Captain Flaresto, though, who shivered violently at the helm.

“You find this weather cold?” Langley asked, rather incredulously. He seemed to like finding weaknesses of his superiors, in that he might judge his own tolerances.

For the hundredth time, Bane swore under his breath.

“I’ve been accustomed to good weather for too long now my friend. Moderate temperatures and a stable deck under the feet are the ways to live in these times.” Bane hugged himself to keep in the warmth. The icy rain didn’t help him accomplish this for long, and it was true enough that most seamen couldn’t handle these types of conditions. However, his crew was solid, and would pull through. Perhaps later he would give them a well deserved period of shore leave for their efforts.

Before Langley could respond with a witty retort, a bellowing voice rose above the pandemonium of the raging storm and crashing waves, to deliver more bad news. It came from the rear of the ship.

“Captain, we have serious issues back here! Come and see for yourself!”

Bane and Langley leapt from their wooden podium, dashing past the bustling, tireless members of the crew, busy hoisting cables and moving supplies to shift weight ratios as the wind and waves demanded, and stopped dead on the soaked rear deck. Flaresto’s eyes focused through the fine mist of rain and widened as they locked on to a looming shape, the towering silhouette of another ship. Its sails were emblazoned in colors of red and gold, the emblem of Sol Deus billowing in the gusts. The masts were like the trees of Concordia itself, and the cannons looked longer than normal, somehow more intimidating.

“Is that the Vorstock?!” Bane screamed for confirmation from Langley, who nodded soberly. “Shit. Not here, not now at this time do we need this!”

Bane spun on his heels and yelled a volley of orders at his men. “Navigation, take us fifteen degrees starboard, catch the wind and get us out of here!”

Navigation responded. “Fifteen degrees starboard, aye.”

“I want gunnery on alert. Dry powder from below deck. Roll out all the main guns, and keep me posted on a firing solution!”

Gunnery officers responded with a salute, and scrambled below decks like frightened mice retreating to their homes.

“And will someone get me a god damned cup of something hot to drink!”

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Vorstock

The Vorstock was the finest command Berlios had ever had, but the ship had one major flaw, and it was becoming apparent now as the Stormbreaker honed into view after days of the frustration and disappointment of defeat in the shadowing phase of the journey. She had a new mast and gunnery configuration that would make both enemy and other Sol Deus fleet ships tremble in fear, thinking twice about opposing her might one on one, but the Vorstock maneuvered like a crippled whale due to her size, and the guns were all side facing. But when those guns eventually fired, they would make even the most experienced of men shudder, and most of Elexis’s crew were fresh from the training camp, who had little to no experience in combat. They would quite literally shit themselves.

“Sighting of the Stormbreaker confirmed, Captain Berlios. It’s Bane.” Lugatti reported.

Elexis rose from her throne-esque seat at the helm and walked to the banister of the ship, leaning over to see if she could spot the man himself. She could not identify him from this distance, but as she cast her eyes down to the base of her enemy ship Elexis noticed the splintered planks near the rudder, where the rocks had collided with the hull. A warm feeling spread through her body as she contemplated how this would make her mission easier. She was mere moments away from tasting the tender flesh of her man, or prying it from his skeleton. Elexis preferred it if Bane would give into his male instinct, his desires. Levia was a mere memory now, by her own hand, and surely a man of his kind lusted to be serviced properly by a woman, no longer by a memory. Elexis had long craved to be bedded by the good Captain Flaresto, the rumours of his labido fixed in her mind. Men on Sol Deus mostly had little to no idea of how to satisfy a woman, except for this one.

Not, of course, that her crew would be to know of this deception. That was the tricky part.

“They’re stricken. I want you to come about forty five degrees, roll out and prepare all guns. One volley only, then we get close enough to board.”

Alexander looked horrified. “Board?! In this storm?! With the greatest of respect, captain, I think-“

“You think nothing.” Elexis interrupted with an icy tone. “You follow my orders. Prepare to carry them out.”

Alexander nodded slowly, disgusted at the verbal insanity he had just listened to, and repeated the orders for those who needed to hear them. Board the Stormbreaker here, like this? Suicide. Utter suicide. The Devlar would have you for this.

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Stormbreaker

“Do you mind if I ask what the fuck they think they are trying to do?”

Bane and Langley watched in amazement as the Vorstock began turning, and although it was but a crawl, they were drawing nearer and nearer to their ship. It wasn’t a case of the Vorstock trying to get a firing solution on the Stormbreaker, but it seemed…no. That was too ridiculous. Not in this storm.

“Are they insane?” Langley cried out as the enemy ship loomed ever close to them, the sheer power of the wind alone drawing them closer and closer at what would be considered to be intense speed for a wind powered vessel now that their turn had been completed, and they were on the straight and narrow. The captain and his officer looked at each other sharply, and read each other’s thoughts.

“That’s madness. Fucking madness I tell you.”

A few of the younger men went pale and stood upright at the bow of the ship as Bane yelled out another batch of orders, with Langley dictating them far and wide in all directions.

“Navigation, prepare the procedure for leveling off aside the Vorstock, and keep a firing solution on them at all times. If they get too close for guns, you had all better be prepared for a boarding party. Let them come to us, we cannot afford any risks in either losing the ship or colliding with theirs. We are damaged as it is.”

The deck snapped to his commands, and the captain watched them with a pride he might have felt for his own sons as they went straight to their duties without question or hesitance. It was an all male crew, and sometimes on these types of vessels arrogance can take a man by the throat. It was reassuring that Bane’s crew were taking to their tasks with little bemoaning. It might even save their hides.

And so it began.

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Vorstock

“Contact, dead ahead!” Lugatti sang out. “Christ, she’s real close now. Too close for guns. Your orders, ma’am?”

Elexis stood firm, gesturing towards the boarding cables hanging from the Vorstock’s masts. Both ships were merely a couple of metres from each other, rocking to and fro in the violent seas. “All parties to ropes. Alexander, fetch my saber. We’re going over.”

The SSD Stormbreaker

“We’ve lost our firing vector, sir. They’re preparing to board!” Langley’s voice, carried on some demon wind, reached Bane at the starboard side of the craft, where he was furiously preparing his men for a defense. He considered the situation, making mental measurements and logical thoughts work within his brain, even as the thundering battle cries from the Vorstock carried over the fourteen foot channel between the vessels. If they come over, the rules of engagement be damned. Each and every man on that Sol Deus ship gets murdered.

“Hold steady!” Barked Bane, gesturing a hand to symbolize his order. Not a movement among men could be detected.

The SSD Vorstock

There was a moment of silence as Elexis Berlios, Commander of the Vorstock, pride of Sol Deus and the Basillisk of Storm prepared to vault the fourteen foot gap with fifty of her best soldiers. She knew how to play her objective. The Stormbreaker’s swordsmen were far better equipped and trained than her own. She would be forced into submission, and with her crew mostly dead or incapacitated Elexis would surrender. Then, and only then, out of the sight of her crew, would she play her deadly game.

“With me, brothers!” She screamed at the top of her voice, adding as much melodrama as required to fool her crew. The ropes tightened and the sky blackened as the Vorstock’s skirmishers blotted out the lightning flashes, descending on the Stormbreaker like a cloud of locusts on a crop.

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Stormbreaker

Bane wiped the rainwater from his face, the wind making his face sting in the bitter cold, and observed the crew of the Vorstock as they made their living nightmare leap across the dark void between the vessels.

The Basillisk kept his eyes open and enjoyed a jolt of lightning as it bounced off of the golden wood that stretched out for what seemed like miles around, an endless ocean of beige, and a vast sea of blue that chopped in towering waves across the horizon. He enjoyed the rain just as much as he enjoyed the heat on his face, the heavy, hot exhales of breath from his lungs and the warm perspiration on his smooth, pale skin. He could feel the very flames of hell itself swelling inside him.

Although he was sweating heavily, Bane was uncharacteristically calm. He was brimming with confidence. Usually, he would have avoided this, but when it was time to fight, when it was time to dive in and make things get extremely messy, there was no one bolder, no one more willing to get the ball rolling than Flaresto. Even when he was but a boy, Bane had always been more than willing to take on the larger boys in greater numbers. Each loss he had suffered was accompanied by a mild oath, never one to accept defeat as the final outcome.

He moved like a wraith along the banks of the deck, proceeding with careful but quick steps across the rain soaked planks towards the shadows of his advancing enemies, the Baneblade drawn to his right hand side. It began to hiss violently as the metal superheated in an instant, and the raindrops pounded its blunt and hot surface, evaporating and creating vapor trails in their midst. Bane checked from the corners of his eyes to see that from left to right he was flanked by his crew, each armed with their weapons of choice. Sabres, nunchucks, anything they could get hold of or uproot to hit somebody with. They were ready for a brawl.

At last, Bane thought with a tinge of satisfaction. The knowledge that he would be wasting no more time waiting for his stalkers to show up, always having to watch his back, losing precious sleep to the unrelenting pressure of his new lifestyle was comfort enough for the man. Having spent much time in the ocean, he knew that his single biggest enemy was fear. Now, he had nothing to fear. It was going to be death, or it was going to be or glory.

[Falcon Darkflight]

Elexis could see that Bane Flaresto, her objective, was as eager as ever for the coming battle as she carefully observed his quick advances towards her legion, the crew of the Stormbreaker visibly itching for a scrap. This came as no surprise to the beautiful Basillisk of Storm. They would have been looking over their shoulders for so long in these past weeks that they must have been almost relieved to finally be confronting their pursuers face to face, just to ease the paranoia. It is harder to fight blind, but easier to fear what you can’t see.

Turning the hilt of her saber in her nimble hands, Captain Berlios took a final glance at her blade. It was a finely crafted mythril fencing saber, a quality weapon given to her upon receiving her command. It had served her well, always, cutting down anyone who opposed her might. But today, it would serve a new purpose, its beautiful gleaming blade ready to taste victory in all of its tangibility.

"So, this it it? This is the best you can offer me, traitor? A washed up, ragged crew of schoolboys wielding toys?" She taunted, gesturing a hand at the advancing crew. "After all the effort you put in to avoid detection, it would seem like a total waste of time to send these kids to their graves. Why don't you just surrender, come back home? The Devlar might have mercy, after all."

There was no response. Bane kept advancing, his eyes showing intensity, focus, and a great deal of subdued anger. He recognised his target. He knew his target well.

"I see. So, this is how it is, this is how the Basillisk of Fire falls. You had your chance Bane, a chance that none other would have given you in this situation. Now you'll die for your misjudgement!"

Clenching her hand around the handle of the saber, she ran forward with all the speed she possessed, realizing that her monologue had been totally ignored. Elexis held out the mythril sabre in front of her in a jousting motion. Knowing that a strike would likely ensue from the blade of her opponent, she waited until she was just in front of his opponent and then struck.

Pulling all the momentum of her run into the swing, she slashed upwards and at an angle, hoping perhaps to catch Bane off guard by striking with speed. It was time for the pieces to fall into place, and as the deck of the Stormbreaker descended into a brawl, she looked forward to sharing her memories of his Levia with her future hostage, once she had disarmed him.

[Falcon Darkflight]

Bane had been but a boy when the old man had taken him under his sturdy wing, pressing the hilt of Baneblade into the shaky grip of the young Basillisk, and had taught him the importance of balancing the level of pressure in close quarter combat. One could never hope to achieve victory forever based purely on instinct: it was a reaction that could easily get a person killed if depended on too frequently. Instead, the concept of good swordsmanship relied on unpredictability, the casting away of that initial gut reaction that would send a person into the fray without due care and attention.

It was then, as everything slowed to a rain soaked motion blur, he recognized the wet face of his counterpart. The Basilisk of Storm, Elexis Berlios. The murderer of his wife, the murderer of his brother and a Devlar state sponsored terrorist, and most criminally of all, the torturer and kidnapper of Levia Miller. An unforgivable crime, one that could only warrant the punishment of total obliteration. His tears, all of his pain and sadness would be channeled into that eagerly anticipated killing blow, the one he had been waiting for all these years.

She was painfully quick, and gave Bane no more room to contemplate his grievances. The rising heat distorted his image as if it were being viewed through a prism, their blades clearly each at different positions as he sped over the slippery floor towards his intended target. Bane, using a nearby mast to his advantage, quickly rolled his body across the side of the structure in a sharp movement and cringed as the metallic scraping of a blade against metal shreaked through his ears, Elexis's contending saber denting the metal of the Baneblade with a deep scar.

“My crew are better men, better soldiers than any those scumfucks at the Devlar could have offered." Bane retorted to Elexis's earlier taunts with a dark frown, the rage in his eyes flaring. "It won't be long now before they bask in the blood of your boys over there, stood there pissing in their pants because they know they face the judgement of the reaper when they face the Basillisk of Fire's men, and the reaper is not kind to sinners."

Bane seethed through gritted teeth, his anger and rage swelling like a cancer inside of him, ready to burst through his normally cool temperament. Elexis hesitated, her blade still locked with his.

“You took everything away from me. You raped Levia of her humanity, turned her into a demon. Desecrated her soul, trod on it with filthy bloodstained boots. You are responsible for so much of my pain that I couldn’t kill you enough to compensate for the crimes you undertook.”

A small struggle ensued once again, each blade locked against the other. Bane stared down into the eyes of Elexis, his tormentor.

“You will pay. Once you have paid, the Devlar pays. I won't stop until each and every Basillisk who threatens me is consumed by the fires of hell. Let them come. Let them send Goliath, let them bring Yoshimitsu, or even Kefziel himself. I will destroy them all, I will send them to their judgements!"

The sudden sharpness in his tone suprised Elexis, who struggled to free herself from the lock Bane had trapped her in with his blade. As they grappled, she slipped further and further away from momentum and stumbled into the wooden banister enclosing the deck of the ship, her arms spread as she hit the oak hard. Winded, she only had enough time to look up at her aggressor in panic before Bane grabbed her head in his strong hands, and kicked her feet out from underneath her. As Elexis fell, he drove her neck into the edge of the wooden rail, and slammed the Baneblade down into her breasts to accompany the sickly crackle of her spine shattering just below the skull.

A perfect hangmans fracture.

The Basillisk of Storm had no time to react. Her nerves were instantly cut off from every muscle and organ they controlled. She tried in desperation to say something, but the words would not come out, her mouth opening and shutting without a sound. She tried to take in gulps of air, but her lungs failed to repond. The hand gripping the mythril sabre fell limp, the blade clattering to the floor. It was futile, and certain. Hell had claimed another soul.

Bane, laying her down gently, saw her face flash with recognition, then darken again, before checking her pulse. Her heart had stopped completely. Once he was sure she was dead, he kicked the body over into a corner ruthlessly, showing the same contempt for her as she had shown for everything he had loved. Before he left, he picked up the mythril sabre, deciding to keep it for himself, as a reminder, a memento of this day. The start of his vengeance. The mark of his pride.

"Hell hath no fury like a Basillisk's wrath..."

[Falcon Darkflight]

The SSD Stormbreaker

The skirmish had passed by quicker than Bane had thought or even noticed, and the victor had been clear enough. The crew of the Stormbreaker was busy mopping the blood-soaked planks under a stretch of clear sky, where fifty four Vorstock soldiers had met their bloody deaths at the hands of the superior swordsmen of Flaresto’s crew that night, at the expense of four casualties. Despite the low death toll, it was not the case that these were a mere four deaths. Indeed, Langley himself had bravely struck down ten of his own victims before buying the business end of a cutlass to the throat, and the news of his passing had both saddened Bane and filled him with pride. His officer had fought like a man to the very end. He deserved his honor.

As he had cast Elexis’s broken body to the ocean, Bane thought about what he had said to her. He had vowed to make her pay for her crimes, which he had. But could he really take on and defeat the Devlar itself? Did he even know how to fight it? Only time would tell, it would seem.

Now he stood at the helm of the Stormbreaker once again, his compass set for Corone’s nearest port. The ship was overdue for repairs, and the crew deserved a little time off for their Herculean efforts over the past weeks.

He was sure of one thing: whatever happened, he was not alone.

((Spoil request: Crimson Crow, Elexis Berlios’s mythril saber.))

[Skie and Avery]

Story

Continuity: 6 - Not bad. I got the general gist of what was going on, though some details would have been nice.

Setting: 6 - This started out so strong! Sensory details like the rain sounding like a "snare drumming a death rattle" were especially nice, but I noticed as the thread progressed you lost your momentum here.

Pacing: 8 - Nicely done. This was really on target. The only thing keeping you from a perfect score here was that there just wasn't enough flesh to your work. I'll touch on that more, however, in Technique.

Character

Dialogue: 4 - It really sounded contrived, almost forced. Work on getting words to flow, on accents and proper slangs for a character to use. Obviously, someone who was brought up with a great private education will be better spoken than someone who grew up in poverty, but there are ways to make an articulate character that doesn't give the impression that the words they say are better suited in a textbook.

Action: 7 - Very good here. The actions of your characters seemed spot on each and every time, and I especially liked the little disrespect given to the corpse at the end there. Even good guys can be vindictive.

Persona: 7 - Great characters you got here. Love the nympho villainess. I think the best thing I saw here was the way that the crews were treated. Elexis' complete disregard for her men, for her ship, and for her orders all were great ways to showcase just how selfish she was. I did, however, feel that perhaps she ended up outshining Bane because of how wonderfully you revealed these flaws.

Writing Style

Mechanics: 7 - A firm grasp of the mechanics. A couple of spelling errors here and there, but they weren't anything spellcheck wouldn't fix. If you don't have one on your computer, I believe http://www.spellcheck.net is free.

Technique: 6 - Here, there was give and take. I liked the way you wrote being on a ship. It was very well done, and actually felt as if you knew what you were talking about. You were, however, too brief! I'm very happy you don't have the habit of rambling on about things that don't matter, but adding more sensory details will really help. As Santh is keen on saying around here, you need to be showing the story, not just telling. Or something like that.

Clarity: 9 - Very nicely done.

Wild Card: 7 - I had to highlight the text to read the awkward color you chose to write with. It was difficult to see against the Dark Castle background, but that wasn't a big deal. I'm giving you a high wild card because of post 9, where because of dialogue I suddenly had "Don't Fear the Reaper" by the Blue Oyster Cult pop into my head. One of Manda's favvies. <3

Total: 67

Falcon Darkflight receives 1,341 EXP and 134 GP. He also receives the spoil of the Crimson Crow.

[Letho]

EXP/GP added!