(Spoilers, I request two cannonballs enchanted to detonate upon impact like that of napalm as spoils.)

His time had come, yet all Gideon wanted to do was vomit what little he had in his stomach. Traveling with Mordelain seemed to be more a curse than a blessing, having far too many side effects on the user. It was hard, but the knight had to ignore the unfathomable emptiness of her dimension and remember what he was doing. He fought the visions he beared witness to furiously.

He remembered his family, something he wished he didn't.

The young knight took in a deep breath, filling every last inch of his lungs. As he slowly let the air escape his lips, the knight surveyed the ten or so slavers surrounding them. It took a moment for anyone to even realize that they had appeared aboard the ship, oblivious bastards hadn't the slightest a clue. They had to buy the Captains time, that meant stopping those cannons.

Gideon drew his blade from its leather sheath at his hip. It's opal blade glistened in the fleeting sunlight, a trademark of the Akashiman metalworkers whom he had met once or twice on his journey. Her name was Alessia, a gift from the knight errant's master. Alessia was enchanted to be able to cut through the hardest of metals. With it he would have all the power needed to dispatch of these troublesome.

“As much time as we can people!” He yelled as he leapt forward towards the closest enemy. With one mighty downward swipe of his blade the bulwark man loading the nearest broadside cannon lay dead. Bisected by Alessia who cleaved through the minimal armour of the mariner like a burning knife through butter. “Put them down!” He cried pressing forward.

“There's one!” Pester yelled as she set loose a barrage of arrow in rapid fire. They appeared and skewered two Slavers as they turned and attempted to draw their weapons. She was quick and deadly as she drew her bow string and set loose arrow after arrow.

Gideon had moved up and faced a group of four slavers, these men appeared to be of elvish decent. They had a light blue hue to their skin as if they had a strong connection to water. Judging on appearance of their fleet, a lot of time must have been put into their naval power. He assumed that these people must be a form of mariner elves hailing from some unmarked continent somewhere.

As the four men circled the knight he kited them until he was positioned over the cargo hold in the center of the deck. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the others fighting vigorously around him. He payed special attention to Pester as she laid waste to pirate after pirate, proving her worth in fold as a soldier. She could definitely take care of herself but still he felt the urge to protect her.

Then suddenly while the Gideon was distracted the first of the four men attacked. He used the end of his mighty spear, thrusting it toward the knight’s stomach. Without much time to react Gideon leaned, stepping to the side, barely evading its edge as it tore through the leathers of his chest plate. Then with an upward strike he severed the head of the spear from its shaft sending it flying.

As the other three men attacked, Gideon rushed the first pathetic, unfortunate soul, placing the tip of Alessia deep into his elven chest. She slid through his steel and flesh with ease, killing the elf. Gideon dropped the hilt of Alessia as the man fell while simultaneously turning raising one hand up. He then muttered something under his breath while closing his eyes.

As if out of nowhere Gideon harnessed a wonderful magical force in his palm. The grey aura manifesting in his clutches spewed through his fingertips like raging flames. Then after a moment the knight errant unleashed his magic, conjuring forth a large circular shield to his defense.

The five foot shield appeared as a grey construct composed white magic. His ultimate defense caught the blades of all three men before disappearing instantly. As his construct vanished the three elves were left without any forward momentum making them easy kills. Gideon capitalized reaching down to rearm himself before spinning violently relieving each elf of their ankles.

The four companions fought vigorously for a while, leaving heaps of dead mariners as they made their way across the ship. Twenty minutes must have passed and for the duration of their skirmish the cannons had stopped. One after another Gideon sent the slavers to a quick grave alongside his allies. This must have gotten the attention of the other frigates as they too stopped their fire.

It seemed like wave after wave of sea elf poured out of the ship onto the deck. It soon became clear that they weren't going to win this fight, no matter how many they killed more seemed to come. Not only were they soon to be overwhelmed but his friends were becoming winded. Gideon had to figure out a way to end this and quick.

<”The Cannonballs.”> Gideon astonishingly chimed telepathically to Modelain. <”We've got to-, I've got to end this.”>

“Pester!” He yelled in mid blade lock, his eyes never leaving that of the slaver’s. “Can you see where their ammunition is?” He finished through gritted teeth.

“No, but best guess is it's below deck.” She answered, setting free an arrow into the side of the man Gideon was fighting.

“Alright, I need you and the others to get off the ship!”

“What do you mean get off, you coming too right!?”

“Of course, I'm right behind you.” He lied. If the knight didn't do something quick then all this would have been for nothing. He couldn't bear witness if anything were to happen to his friends, especially not Pester. With as stalwart glare he met eyes with Modelain, who seemed weaker and weaker the more this battle raged on.

<”Get yourself and the others out of here.”>he said telepathically.

<”What about you?”>

<”I'll handle the ship.”> He answered.

No more words were shared between them as the Plainswalker grabbed both Pester and Harmony returning for the last time to her dimension.

Gideon knew what had to happen.

He backed up slowly to the central mast as the slavers quickly circled him. He watched as the bravest among them stepped forward swiping violently before returning to the safety of the herd. These were warning swipes, merely trying to sway Gideon from advancing. They appeared to be trying to get his back against the wall, but in reality it was he who was baiting them.

From the beginning Gideon noted that thirty paces or so from the base of the main mast was the grated cargo lift. More importantly he found the ship's weak spot, and that it was a mere disaster away. With one hand Gideon pointed the end of his blade at the crowd and in his other he channeled his magic once more. He imagined himself brandishing two blades and menacing armor, and as if by his will alone the image appeared before him.

This startled the elves taking their focus away from Gideon for the briefest of moments. But this was long enough for the knight to turn face and began chopping at base of the mast. Alessia was more than sharp to cut deep into the sturdy wood, but it still took quite a few swings before he lopped off anything major. As his construct was impaled countless times Gideon cut off enough wood to make the mast week and with all his might be began kicking at it. Violently he planted in his heels again and again until he heard the wonderful sound of snapping wood.

With a final nudge the mast began to fracture and fall. Gideon planned it perfectly as the towering central mast plummeted directly into the cargo lift, smashing the grated open and tearing a large portion of the main deck in the process. He took no chances and swiftly leapt onto the mast and began traversing its length before hopping off into the lower quarter. In the confusion those who remained on the top deck concentrated on Gideon's distractions, both his construct and the gaping hole in their ship.

“Where are you?” He said allow talking to himself. He looked all around in this relatively empty lower deck, clearly everyone had rushed up top during the fight. Gideon hasn't much time to act, and as his eyes touched everything in the room he saw them. Racked neatly on the wall was close to forty or fifty medium sized cannonball. They glowed with the faintest of orange hues, Gideon found what he was looking for.

In no time at all the knight made way across the cargo hold to the dangerous ammunition. He reached for them with extreme caution, delicately placing two in either jacket pocket before he heard them. A few sailors had noticed his disappearance and made quick work to find him. Gideon knew he had merely one option remaining, detonate the ship.

The elves yelled violently in their foreign language hissing venom at the young knight. They first appeared running down the stairs from up top, but that didn't matter anymore.Gideon had already prepared his escape. Alessia wasn't his only legendary weapon, and with great haste he drew his matching blade. Helfe, a dragon bones sword, rivaling Alessia in both destructive capability and sharpness.

As if blocking everything out around him the knight turned to face the starboard wall. He pictures himself about ten feet above the water of the bay outside, and with full confidence he cross chopped an x shape into the maple planks of the ship. After many attacks he severed a hole in the wall roughly large enough for himself to leap out. Then as the enemies advanced towards him, he sheathed his weapons at turned to them.

With a devilish grin he caressed the enchanted cannonballs in his jacket before gripping one tight. He pulled it free as the slavers readied themselves. They must have not noticed it immediately, for the secant they realized he had their ammunition then stopped short with panicked expressions.

It was now or never.

“Burn in hell!” He cried as he reared back and chucked the weapon as hard as he could while simultaneously leaping out of his makeshift window. In mid air he heard and felt the ammunition explode in the heart of the ship. Without looking back Gideon was scalded as the flames of the explosion jettisoned out behind him. It was agony, and as the ship combusted and fracture it flew every which way.

The pain and exhaustion had overtaken the boy as he could do nothing when he hit the water. It wasn't much but as pieces of the frigates hit the bay he tried with all his might to swim to the closest botany item before collapsing unconscious upon it. He had bought the crew as much time as possible, confirmed there were no causalities, and reduced the chance that they be followed on their escape. As far as he was concerned that was enough and he left his fate in the hands of the Thaynes for now.