Date: February 27, 1999
Place: The Iruka - Upper Deck
Cast: Elania, Hidenouri, Kuronbo (Foam-Seeker), Rabi, Riva, Shinjukou, Uneri, Yukari, Yoritomo
Scene: The Iruka, manned by a crew from the Orcinus Decemvirate, sets sail to hunt whales, with the intention of feeding the thousands of refugees grouped together in the tent-city outside Haven. The hunt appears successful at first, but then disaster strikes, and it seems that whales are not the only creatures sacrificed this day for the good of the many.

The Iruka - Upper Deck:
      This is the upper deck of the Atlantean galley, Iruka... the place from where the boat is commanded. It is a rather large raised platform from which the entire rowing well can be regarded. At the base of the platform is a large kettle drum from which the beat of the strokes can be maintained. At the front end of the platform is a large wheel from which the Captain can steer and navigate the boat. Upon the rear of the platform is squat catapult on a swivel. Numerous types of stones are neatly piled next to the weapon.

The Iruka has been transformed for this journey. The smooth and streamlined shape of the galley is no more... it is broken up by a complicated series of riggings that drape the entire galley. At the prow of the vessel is a very large ballista, complete with a barbed bolt that measures at least twelve feet. The tip of the bolt is rigged to a strong rope that extends all the way back to a series of pulleys and anchor points at the aft end of the vessel. Several crew-members are stationed at the riggings, waiting for the trial to come.

Elania's silver-chiming steps carrying her up the gangplank and onto the ship. She's looking... nervous. Excited. Scared, even -- her green-gold eyes are very bright and skittish, hopping over every detail twice or thrice before she's at all convince she's truly seen it.

The onyx-skinned Atlantean stands very near the wheel of the vessel, looking at one of the strangest looking contraptions that one has ever seen. It appears to be a long hollow tube with glass at either end. Kuronbo appears to be regarding it with an emotionless face as he turns it over and over in his hands several times.

To contrast the harried scurry of crew around the galley, the Princess has formed her own island of serene calm -- perched atop an oiled coil of thick rope, she sits cross-legged -- appearing almost relaxed in this mad bustle of activity. Hands are slowly moving through the simple task of fastening a thin belt about her waist, securing the sheath-strap of a black coral dagger about her left thigh. Propped against the rope coil is the slender, deadly length of an overlong spear -- its unbarbed metal tip gleaming in the late afternoon light. She almost looks as if she were preparing to enter the Hunt herself -- but who would be silly enough to allow a Crown Princess of all people to do that?

Being recognized by the Iruka crew has its drawbacks, one of them being that you're not long escorted around like a guest. Once Elania's safely aboard, she's left to her own devices; she looks around for a long while, uncertain where it's okay for her to be, until the two of you are located. Kuronbo looks too busy to be bothered and so, despite her curiosity over the odd device he holds to his face, she heads towards Shinjukou, calling softly once she's closer, "Hello-to-you, Princess."

Shinjukou glances up from the task of securing the dagger, offering Elania one of her odd, thin-lipped smiles. "Greetings, little heart." A small gesture beckons the graisha closer even as the woman shifts over on the rope coil, making enough room for the both of them. Wouldn't want to block the crew-members as they hurry about after all. Some of them look a little tightly strung. The spear is also moved closer to the woman, to prevent it from being accidentally knocked over. "I hope the day finds you well."

"Elania is well," she agrees, stepping closer to hover near the edge of the coiled rope. Her attention is upon you, if you'd pardon the occasional -- okay, okay, frequent -- glances around at the bustling crew folk. "You are well, also?" she asks. Her eyes fall upon the spear, and she studies it for a few moments. "You will be in the water?" She sounds uncertain about her guess; concerned, too.

"Yes. I will be one of those who will keep the whale from diving, and pulling the ship with it." Her head lowers, eyes intent on her fingers as they double-tie the fastening of the strap -- tugging on it experimentally. A satisfied nod later, she returns that unfathomable gaze to you -- though there's a definite animated sparkle to her eyes, a well-hidden excitement as well. "I was the one to offer the aid of House Orcinus. I must be one of those who works to bring in the whale; to do otherwise would be to risk dishonor. You are not nervous, are you, little heart?"

Uneri steps aboard the main deck of the Iruka.

Pull the ship with it? Elania's voice would twinge-squeak at the end of that phrase, if she repeated it aloud. A none-too-surreptitious glance is cast back towards the shore as a memory of treading water in the chill ocean returns to her. No, it is silly for her to fear -- the ship is manned by many who could help her to shore. Yes. She nods to herself, taking a deep breath, and looks back to Shinjukou. "Elania is nervous," she admits. "Elania's never done anything like this before."

Uneri quietly ascends the stairs and moves to look out over the rest of the ship. Her head turns to include the other two women in her field of vision.

Rabi steps aboard the main deck of the Iruka.

Rabi folds her hands together at the base of her belly and bows a silent, but respectful, greeting.

Elania stands next to Shinjukou, trying her very hardest not to fidget. For the most part, she's successful; all that gives her nervousness away is the super-animated glitter within her eyes as they hop around the ship. Rabi is noticed, and a sense of relief washes over the graisha. She doesn't know the woman all that well, but she's familiar in a scene of unfamiliarity -- a very welcome thing. "Hello-to-you, Imphada," she greets Rabi, bobbing her head in a nod to the scribe.

Yukari and Hidenouri step aboard the main deck of the Iruka.

A small, seated bow is given Rabi, one hand curling to Shinjukou's chest then extending outwards towards the other. "Imphada." Short, simple greeting that lilts pleasantly in her low, whispery voice. The hand retracts, curls about the smooth length of the spear beside her, fingers tensing experimentally around it. Her other hand rests on the haft of the coral dagger strapped to her left thigh. Outfitted and ready for this hunt, it would seem. To Elania, she murmurs, "You need not be nervous, little heart. The creature will not pull the ship down. I will not allow it." Of course, how one woman -- not a very large one at that -- is going to keep a many-tonned whale from causing rampant destruction is beyond all fathoming. But she is trying to reassure.

Yukari slinks up the stairs, finding a comfortable niche off to the side behind some more gregarious of those present. She folds her arms, then unfolds them, practicing the motion it seems. It is fairly obvious that she is not quite attune with her 'out-of-water' self yet.

It is an exquisite spring day in which the Grand Hunt takes place, certainly an auspicious sort of day for sailing. It is one of those days that speaks of the beautiful Haven days to come. It is warm without oppressive heat and there is still a slight chill in the air from the winter that is past but not forgotten. The wind blows gently, creating a fine mist that blows back onto the crew as the prow of the Iruka bites into the waves...

Rabi moves towards Elania, she being the only person she knows, and dips her head in a nod. The idea of this ship actually moving seems to give her some pause and -- because obviously it will move, yes? -- she sinks down onto the deck next to Elania, making sure she has one hand firmly closed about some nearby support -- a railing, perhaps.

The Iruka has been sea for only an hour and the coast and buildings of Haven can be seen far off as a tiny sliver of black on the far horizon. The sails are furled and the ropes have been set to supply the rigging... but the oars dip into waves at precise intervals dictated by the beating of the drum within the oar well. It resounds throughout the timbers of the Iruka as the Iruka is rapidly propelled through the water at a fast clip...

Hidenouri moves forward quickly, her eyes shining and her hair flying back off her face. She deliberately keeps her thoughts closed, as she always does in a crowd. Nevertheless, her excitement is obvious. She moves as far forward as is prudent and wraps an arm tightly around a post.

Rabi closes her eyes, feeling the rush of sea air over her, and tries not to feel queasy. She marvels at the idea of being used to this, of being on a chip of wood on such a vast, ever-moving surface. Ooops, don't think about that too deeply...

The crew is quiet... not particularly grim, but silent as the trial of what is about to occur preoccupies their thoughts. There is the feeling of quiet competence and confidence that exudes from them. The men at the oars stare at the back of the men in front of them as they continue to row... oblivious to the men above them, primarily Empyreans, that watch for the tell-tale signs of the whales that they are tracking...

Elania mentally pats herself on the back for having the foresight to buy a comb before the hunt -- working out the wind- and salt-snarls will be so much easier, now. She stands with fingers curled against the railing, alternately squinting into the spray and looking off to the side. A group of sailfish arc out of the water and Elania touches Rabi's shoulder, pointing towards them with a soft-rushed, "Look, Imphada!"

Uneri has found a place to sit as the ship flies through the waters. She leans forward as if urging the ship on to greater speed. Her own hair flits about her thin face.

On the raised aft deck, Orcinus Kuronbo stands upon the timbers of the fore-end with his hands upon the railing and his wide-legged stance keeping him erect and unbowed. The mist has collected upon his onyx skin and rolls down his limbs like so much rain. He appears to be waiting for the signal from the riggings above and he occasionally glances back at the Crown Princess Orcinus Shinjukou... and the ten Orcinus guardsmen that are with her, dressed in similar attire and weaponry.

Rabi looks over. The strong breeze ripples through her veils, whipping them up and away from her face. For a moment, her features are visible: soft lips, a delicate-heart-shaped face, a slender nose, and the ugly white crescent smile of a scar across the base of her throat. But then she catches the silks in the fingers of her free hand them back in place. Her eyes widen at the sight of the dolphins' leaps and play and she nods to Elania, a smile evident even though her face is once again properly concealed.

Yukari rises to her feet and hops over to the nearby railing, bending over it so far it looks as if she has plans to bail overboard. Her raven hair flaps over her face as she stares rather giddily down at the ocean whipping below, and her gown becomes a mass of rippling fabric.

With the first movement of the boat, Shinjukou's eyes had closed and so they remain -- thoughts turned inward. To those present, she paints a serene picture, relaxed, shifting easily in her seated position with each swelling rise and fall of the Iruka. Only the closest of observers would notice the tense lines of the hand still gripping the spear, the way her fingers occasionally roll and flex around the wood before holding tightly again.

There is a cry from above, a thin reedy voice of an Empyreal scout that cries, "To the north, to the north..." and the sounds of wings biting into the air as three Empyreans take to the sky with a sound that speaks of seagulls taking flight. They form a loose wedge that points to the north, and in the distance... all can see the sprayings of two whales near the surface. With that cry, the tall, Sylvan Mate of the Iruka, Foam-Follower, cries toward the oarsmen, "Increase the beat... steersmen, three points to the north and smartly."

The Iruka responds immediately and begins to pick up speed.

Elania jumps slightly at the sound of Empyrean voices, and looks up, frowning in confusion at them. A glance is cast back over her shoulder, toward the blurred land-horizon, accompanied with a sigh; she turns her attention forward again, confusion giving way to delight as she watches water and mist spout into the air. "Smoke?" she wonders softly to herself. Surely these aren't sea-dragons, like that man in the Rialto said. Surely.

For several moments, the Iruka closes the distance between the sprayings of the surfaced whales and where it had spotted them... the oars bite into the water at a moderately fast rate and the mist thickens as the Iruka picks up speed. The motions of the boat are smooth, but cause one to have to grab the railings in order to be steady. After an indeterminate time, the Iruka pulls to within a hundred meters or so of the whales... whom now appear to be ready to dive.

Her pose of stillness is broken as Shinjukou slides from her perch atop the coil of rope. Eyes lifted to follow the Empyreans, an easy rolling stride -- quite different from the tiny-stepped glide she uses when on stable ground -- brings her near the great ballista. Transferring the spear from right hand to left, the woman leans against the rail and turns her gaze to the spray being spouted by the whales; she could be simply one of the many curious here, to judge by her calm stance of patience, waiting silently for the distance between the Iruka and its prey to be crossed.

Rabi leans towards Elania as she, too, peers in the direction of the spouts of white.

Yukari smiles in a rather subdued manner, watching the whales in silent fascination. She lifts her pale hands to gather up her unruly hair as it flies wildly in the wind. A swift glance behind her, and an equally quick visual assessment of those near, assures her that her attention is best kept on the water below.

Elania's attention slants to Shinjukou as she starts to move towards the ballista. She turns a little, but doesn't let go of the railing, and says, "Firefox's luck for you, Princess." Her voice is soft, and cut into whispery ribbons by the hissing crash of parted waves, but perhaps it carries nonetheless. She looks back to Rabi, then, and seems about to ask her something, then thinks better of it. One can't talk, and the other can't read -- it makes communication a little tricky.

Not having seen the spear 'til now, Hidenouri is stunned to see Shinjukou step forward with it in her hand. She watches with concern now.

Rabi's eyes widen even further as the curve of one of the beast's backs is visible. Even at a distance she can extend that curve in her mind, although she has no idea what the rest of a whale looks like. And so her estimation is poor but the mental image is huge and she is amazed. Surely this is enough to feed them all for weeks!

Foam-Follower stands by the railing and looks up to the skies... the wedge of Empyreans are slowly circling over the whales, marking their position for the crew of the Iruka. As they pull close enough, he motions once to the crows' nest and a yellow piece of cloth can be seen waving in through the mist... a signal for those above. The Empyreans break off their circling and the Sylvan cries, "Slow the beat... Divers stand Ready!"

Orcinus Kuronbo is silent throughout the exchange, allowing his crew to work without interference. As his Sylvan Mate shouts orders, he turns about to survey the mien of those that have joined him on the Hunt.

Standing at an easy, if erect posture, Yoritomo trains his gaze keenly upon the waves just outside the hull and presses his lips together in wordless, if intent regard, as well. The movement of the whale themselves prompts a narrow, if rapid shift in the focus of his eyes which uncannily mirrors the color of the substance the creature itself has made its home in.

The fingers of the hand that holds her veil modestly in place slacken, pale, and the silk once again slips free from Rabi's face. She clutches at it, ducking down slightly, but perhaps she is ducking at the sight of the enormous things and their bright plumes of white. She keeps tight hold of the railing with her other hand, knuckles white.

Riva leans against the railing, wind tugging at long green strands of hair and freeing it from its confines. She folds her arms, fingers splaying as the golden webbing wraps around the opposite forearm, tip of one finger tapping as she observes closely. Her body adjusts to the movements of the deck underfoot with a the ease of a lifetime's familiarity.

Free hand reaches up, grasps the rigging -- aiding the sudden hop from deck to railing. Crouching there with exquisite balance, toes curling against the wood and hand gripping the rope to steady her, Shinjukou waits -- as coiled and deadly in appearance as a serpent. No civilized princess this, the eager gleam of ice-chip eyes might scare some as they reflect the light flashing from the metal head of the spear.

Rabi looks out at the whales, up at the Empyreal scouts, and back to the Atlantean woman and her weapon. She swallows, frightened and rather horrified of the very idea of a female armed and ready to kill something so large. And yet there is keen fascination, too, to see a woman doing something a Varati woman would not dare.

The Iruka slows in the water to smooth glide, all of the oars shipped except for the front oars in order to stabilize the galley. Foam-Seeker moves forward to converse with the men at the drums and Orcinus Kuronbo turns about and takes a few strides towards his sister. He stands in front of her for a moment and then reaches out and grasps both of her forearms with his hands and bows his head once.

The stark white hands that held Yukari's dark hair slip downward and run side by side along the railing, back and forth in muted anticipation. There is no fear, no shock in those liquid blue eyes as she observes the Princess readying herself, but rather, an anxiety that comes across as a shy smile. As if realizing for the first time that Empyreans hovered overhead, she tips her head back and gapes openly at them, blinking repeated at the sight. Never a dull moment.

In viewing the continued ordeal, Yoritomo's eyes bear a dull glint as he narrows his attention upon this singular act alone, tucking his hands neatly behind his back as he leans, rocking back and forth with the tilting of the ship in an utterly accustomed manner. There is something fiercely predatory about the nature of his gaze, as though he were setting up a sort of communion with the ritual of the practice itself, if only a vicarious one.

Rabi's gaze slips from the Atlantean warrior woman to the whales. A fluke comes up and beats the surface of the ocean, sending up a spray. She catches her breath and turns back to stare up at the upper decking and its two hunters.

Hidenouri locks her eyes on brother and sister, the whales themselves all but forgotten as she continues watching with excitement and admiration. She moves forward, almost involuntarily, hoping to see them as clearly as possible.

Shinjukou's head bows in mimicry of Kuronbo before turning from him, readying herself for that first all important leap into the water. Pale eyes drink in the sight of the whales with pure, animated excitement -- surely more expression than this woman has ever shown before those not of her race -- though the audience seems all but forgotten for now.

The Orcinus Decemvir merely nods to his sister. Whatever entreaty that has gone on between them was a private communication for them and no one else. He turns his head towards the phalanx of Atlantean warriors with her and he blinks a few times before turning about. As he turns, Foam-Seeker steps forward in his stead and calls out, "Crew stand ready... Divers go!"

In the space between breaths needed to give the cry, Shinjukou launches herself from the rail and is gone, diving into the waters with the burlier males quick to follow. Not far beneath the surface, a streak of silver can be seen shooting towards the whales, a darker line beside the form shaping the glimmer of the spear she carries -- several darker forms behind her assuring the onlookers that the Princess does not go into this alone. A welcome reassurance for those with weaker hearts, though the observant might note that she is indeed the one leading this small force against the magnificent -- and very, very large -- creatures.

Riva continues to watch without intruding, quick glance storing up details and lingering here and there. She glances back toward the surface of the water for the space of time it takes a breather to reach out and snatch a wader and cast him down before rolling over him, then looks back at the others of her kind.

So many things to look at. Elania may well have a headache by the time she gets back to shore -- not from motion sickness, but from trying to look at so many things, so fast. She stays by Rabi, tiny fingers clutching to the smooth wood railing, and looks over the Atlanteans. So graceful, so different. She draws in a soft breath as Shinjukou and the other divers vanish overboard, and worries the raw spot on her bottom lip. "Luck," she whispers, watching them streak towards the whales.

Hidenouri leans over the side to watch the dive fully. When Shinjukou vanishes into the water, Hidenouri steals a look at Kuronbo.

Rabi sucks in her breath as the forms of the hunters arrow down into the water. She shivers, hard, and finds herself holding that breath. She lets it out, slowly, but during the course of the hunt, forgets several more times. She blinks against the spray and wind, daring to lean over some to get a closer look at the wonders down below.

Yukari pushes off of the railing and quickly slips by a few people toward the front of the ship. In an attempt to weave between two elated Atlanteans, she loses her balance and has to be steadied by the men flanking her. A silent debt of gratitude is given along with a nod, but her present impatience takes her toward the railing once again. Seeing this spectacle is of the utmost importance to her. She bats her gown aside, still battling with the fabric as it blows up into her view.

The Empyreans dive toward the shapes in the water, and pull up just a few feet above the waves and follow the streaking silver shape as it heads towards the Whales. Orcinus Kuronbo stands at the railing and watches emotionlessly as they rapidly close the distance, and then watches as the whales dive and disappear from view. The Sylvan Mate watches also, and calls out to the steersmen, "One point east... Prow stand ready!!"

Hidenouri sees Yukari struggle to move forward. Hidenouri makes room for her at the railing and holds out a welcoming arm.

Yukari takes a place beside Hidenouri and seems comforted by a person to lean against. A faint hint of frustration over her physical awkwardness crosses her features, but is quickly tossed aside in favor of watching the Hunt.

As the divers follow through, Yoritomo's long, webbed fingers extend as he lets his arms fall delicately to his sides, and strolls silently forwards in a slow, if purposeful walk, eagerly craning his head forwards to observe the continuance of the hunt with a certain reverence. His cloak continues to billow behind him with every movement. The pale flesh of his eyelids slides downward a tad as he squints, very much intensifying the expression he has had throughout the event.

How is a Hunt to occur if the whales do not kindly present themselves to be harpooned? The answer is given seconds later as the odd whistle of the creatures vibrates through the hull of the ship, bearing an odd intensity -- and a crimson flare of color froths to the surface of the water, followed soon by the immense form of one of the animals. The hunters hidden deep below are driving it up with the painful guidance of the spears all carried, though they themselves are invisible. Enough that they succeed with this one, causing it to break the surface in an attempt to escape the harrying it is receiving from below -- only to bring it into the sights of the ballista.

Hidenouri welcomes Yukari's companionship, more for someone to share the experience with, than from any physical awkwardness. She tightens her grip on the railing.

The sound of the creature's agony causes the crew to tense slightly as the prow of the Iruka comes about a few degrees in order to line up the shot directly. The Sylvan Mate is silent as he turns his head towards the Orcinus Decemvir. Kuronbo's eyes narrow somewhat as he watches the wild gyrations of the smaller of the two whales. He allows it to continue for a moment and he then nods once in a terse manner, and Foam-Seeker cries out, "Prow, fire!"

Rabi claps her hand over her mouth, trapping the silk of her veil between palm and lips. Her fingers curl into a fist over which her wide eyes stare.

There is a slight shudder as the crew-members at the prow cut the rope and the barbed bolt flies in a long lazy arc towards the whale. It spirals somewhat as it reaches the apex of its flight and then it quickly picks up speed as it heads toward the leviathan....

Riva's arms unfold and one arm extends to rest a hand on the polished rail while the other rises to tuck wayward locks of hair behind her ear. The hand then drops and fingers flex and release several times. Eyes focus on the undulating surface of the water impatiently as if not used to sedately being one relegated to observing.

The sight of the rising beast causes an excited gasp to pass over Yukari's pale lips. She smiles and looks to Hidenouri like a child experiencing a monumental event for the very first time. Her pale hands rise to cradle against her flushed mouth as Foam-Seeker bellows out an order. Those eyes, filled with awe, widen in the sheer agony of awaiting the outcome.

Elania, too, is wide-eyed and staring, blinking only to clear the stinging salt-spray from her lashes. She is a hunter; she is graisha. But what she does, compared to this... it is nothing. She has seen boar-hunts before, and though the huge cross-barred spears were unbelievable -- compared to the barbed harpoon that surges forward, it, too, is nothing.

And then it strikes with catastrophic results. The barbed spear hits the whale square upon its head and pierces the thick hide and bone in the blink of an eye as it penetrates to the core of the whale's front. The momentum of the bolt and the subsequent rebounding snap of the surging rope and galley transfers enormous force into the creature. The entire front quarters of the whale disappear in an instant in a spray of blood and viscera, revealing that the iron bolt has wedged itself into the massive bone of the creature. The carcass of the now-dead whale begins to drift backwards.

Seeing ritual fulfilled has very vividly inspired a sort of transformation in Yoritomo's manner and carriage. The upright observer, noble and proud, has now become something else in its nobility. Even from the seemingly innocuous position of the observer, his lips part in a hungry wonder that can only remind one of a different sort of creature, one that his people know well. For this, he has become the Shark in spirit. Moving more eagerly toward the railing, his head is held high in respect of the happening that has transformed his people into the ancient guise of the Hunter.

Rabi looks away from the sight of the gored whale. She closes her eyes and swallows. The sight is... all too familiar, even though the scale is different.

Several of those in the water rise as well to the surface -- a 'safe' distance from the bobbing carcass of the smaller whale -- their faces turned towards the Iruka to watch; waiting for the ballista to be reloaded before the task of driving the second beast into range begins. Shinjukou, and the half of the remaining warriors, remain unseen. Presumably below, ensuring that the larger creature does not seek to escape. The water -- previously calm, now churning and glistening with a sheen of blood -- hides their position.

Hidenouri looks back at Yukari, her eyes glittering. She squeezes the girl's hand in quiet understanding. Gone is Hidenouri's cool demeanor. Her eyes flash with excitement, and her jaw is tight with a ferocity new to her.

The crew of the Iruka, oddly enough, do not raise a cheer. Rather, their demeanor grows more attentive as several crewmen race to the starboard and transfer the long rope from the launcher on the prow and quickly complete the manpower-intensive task of lashing the whale carcass to a massive tether that serves to tow the motionless creature behind the Iruka. Simultaneously, the crew-members on the prow of the Iruka quickly reload the second bolt into the launcher...

Who could have thought the whale had so much blood in him? "Oh..." breathes Elania, caught somewhere rather uncomfortably between excitement and unease. "Oh." She licks her lips repeatedly, stirred despite herself by the sight of all that blood turning the water frothy scarlet-pink. She tries to spot Shinjukou amongst the figures that bobbed to the surface, but they're too far away for any details to be seen.

Orcinus Kuronbo seems to be scanning the waters for his sister and then he sees her. His hands seem to relax somewhat on the railing, but his demeanor is coldly fierce as he nods once towards Foam-Seeker and states simply, "Now the second."

With that command, Foam-Seeker waves once towards the crows' nest, and the once again the yellow silk flag waves. The trio of Empyreans wing over and head towards the last known position of the whale and start circling, looking for the massive shape.

The second whale proves more stubborn than the first, its bulk more than ample in backing up a fury that has been driven into fever-pitch. Perhaps it is the death of its mate, or the stinging pain of the spears digging into its soft underbelly, but the reason is unimportant. Its actions gain more immediate recognition as the Atlanteans work to herd it to the surface. It crests once, briefly, loosing a huge plume of water from its spout before diving again, scattering the silvery shapes that torment the beast. Minutes pass, the near violent churning of red-tinged water signaling the whale's efforts to elude its attackers -- and then it surfaces again, its great form rising out of the water in an almost leap more suited to a dolphin than this bulky creature.

Curiously enough, Yoritomo's reverie is broken, no, only momentarily diverted by the command his liege issues, silently shifting his head to one side to view Kuronbo for a fleeting sliver of a second, as though this man were the heart of the storm that ship has become. An outstretched hand grips the railing firmly, as he methodically returns his glance to the rolling waves and the creature which is meeting its sacrificial end at their hands. Maybe this is a testament to the practice of sacrifice that is very much an aspect of Pasiphae. The enraptured look then returns.

The Empyreans begin to circle above the now-pitching whale and the keen eyes of the Sylvan catches the movement and he states, "Drummer, half-stroke port side... Five points starboard... Prow, stand ready!"

The Iruka begins to heel over slightly as the shot is lined up. The entire scene now seems to be unfolding with awful majesty as the death of the final whale is only a moment away.

Rabi holds her breath again. She keeps her gaze where it was, not needing to look when the expressions and actions of those around her tell the tale with perfect clarity.

Yukari slips away from Hidenouri's embrace only to circle around her to the opposite side, bending over the railing and dangling a hand toward the water as if she had a chance to actually make contact. Her dark brows knot together for a fraction of a second in response to the whale evading the kill. At the sound of the last order rattling off, she lifts her head and looks around quickly, eyes then darting back to the water.

A sudden flash of silver shows in the red and white of the ocean as Shinjukou and a pair of warriors surface a seemingly-short distance from the frenzied thrashing of the second whale. The beast tries desperately to avoid the score of warriors beneath it, forcing it to remain on the surface but is unable to slide its bulk between the position the host has taken around it. Too far to make out any detail, Shinjukou -- the reddened spear she carries quite visible still in her hand -- rides each foaming wave, her face turned from the Iruka; keeping wary watch on the whale's struggle.

Hidenouri gazes at the blood for a long time and then finds that she simply can't anymore. She turns away from the railing, not ill, but rather emotionally overwhelmed. She gazes at Kuronbo for a long while. Until she catches herself and averts her eyes out to the distant sea.

After a moment's time, the prow is lined up... the movements of the Iruka are sluggish as the weight of the first whale cause the turn to be a good deal more shallow than usual. However, the time arrives and once again Orcinus Kuronbo nods, and the Sylvan gives the order and the bolt lets fly on its terrible flight....

Elania's eyes go nearly round as she spots Shinjukou, so close to the whale. What if she's hit with one of those huge flippers, or that fluked, even-huger tail? Or- "Oh," Elania whispers, but it's a worried sound this time. As bad as the flipper or tail might be, being struck by that harpoon would be... unspeakably worse. Nothing she can do, but wait.

Rabi looks back over, the expression in her eyes serene now. The veil flutters and ripples in the wind, wanting to be free. She keeps hold and watches, seeing the whale in all its agonized glory now, seeing its full size and its shape and curves and the specks beneath it, seeming insignificant by comparison and yet, together, they are more mighty than the enormous beast.

The bolt makes an odd whistling sound as it flies and it then strikes true on the rear quarters of the whale at a point just above its tail. It pierces deep into the core of the creature. Unlike the first score, the body of the Whale remains intact as the surging motion of the Iruka causes the bolt to gain purchase deep within the innards of the whale. The great beast is moments from its death, and it slowly begins to keel over in the crimson waters in a lazy motion as it bleeds itself out into the waves.

The abalone pendant dangling from the cord hanging around Yoritomo's neck is fingered, slowly, as he brings his free hand upwards towards his chest in an idle, lazy gesture. Were his knuckles not already white, one would imagine they would become so as he grasps the railing so fiercely in this climactic moment. It is rather symbolic now that the stylization of the abalone jewelry has been fashioned into a form that is all-too-close to a shark's tooth. As the bolt hits, he bows his head only the barest hint of what could pass for an inch.

Riva nods once. "A much easier kill than those of the north seas." She lets her attention drift from the necessary horror of the food gathering and the final thrashing of the death of the whale to watch the activity around the lines securing the beasts to the ship itself.

Hidenouri begins to breathe more steadily and looks around the ship again. Her eyes fall on Yoritomo, watching his steady gaze curiously, her eyes drawn to his gesture... and ultimately his pendant.

The crew ships their oars as some of the oarsmen move forward and begin the heavy task of transferring the ropes from the second kill to the pre-prepared rigging on the starboard side of the Iruka. It is then, at the critical juncture, that disaster strikes...

Yukari slips down into a seated position before the railing and rests her cheek against the smooth, polished wood, eyes still intently on the bubbling mingle of red and white below. A leg extends out to the side, creeping from beneath the ambiguous folds of her gown. The first sound uttered from this creature is a whimsical sigh, soft and full of admiration.

More Atlanteans bob to the surface as their task appears to be done, several peeling off from the larger group and swimming towards the Iruka. The Princess, her flanking guards, remain where they are. Close enough that each push of water stains pale skin and hair pink with the dying beast's lifeblood. After a moment -- most of the warriors already well on their way back to the ship -- the female and the two remaining warriors slowly move closer to the whale.

Hidenouri turns her gaze back to the sea, still clinging firmly to the rail. She watches the princess, hoping there is no more to come.

Like something out of the worst nightmares of land and sea dwellers alike, there is a horrific whistling from the harpooned whale and it surges forward with unsuspected energy. The lashing on the starboard side is only partially complete and the rope is immediately ripped from the hands of the unsuspecting crew-members to catch upon timbers of the galley. The rear anchor points groan once and disintegrate in a hail of wood splinters that fly down the length of the oar well like a blast of a thousand arrows, cutting down over two dozen crewmen in an instant...

The anchor point flies through the air with a high-pitched whine and then strikes the prow of the Iruka, crushing the crew of the ballista in an instant and sending the device flying down the length of the rope towards the surging whale. The metal piece hits one of the Empyreans circling above and sends him cartwheeling into the ocean, its wings shredded by the force of the impact. The rope is still attached to the surging whale by one anchor point that held, and the ship is jerked violently starboard.

Rabi takes a deep breath and inhales the scent of salt, of clean air, and of the thick and sweet copper scent of blood. There are other smells, too, especially from the second whale -- the smell of its perforated guts. She moves back from the edge, shifting back without getting up -- and then the world comes apart. With a silent cry, she throws up her arms to protect her face, but only a few shards fly back, the majority of the wooden splinters racing forward to bury themselves in the sailors down in the galley. As she ship is jerked to the side, she tumbles, coming up hard against the railing. One leg slips through, dangling out over the roiling sea below. She wraps her arms around the spars of the railing, curling her body around it as best she can, and holds on for dear life.

Yukari rises to her feet and watches in horror, glancing around in a muted kind of panic. In a stumbling motion, she moves backwards away from the railing, her hand groping toward Hidenouri in vain as she falls onto her backside and bumps her shoulder against a mast. She winces and curls up right where she landed, watching chaos ensue around her.

The three Atlanteans left in the water -- the other warriors already so close to the Iruka they're too far away to help in the vital seconds after this unexpected event -- scatter when the metal slices into the ocean. One streaks for the downed Empyrean, one surges forward towards the tail of the beast -- and the Princess disappears as she dives beneath the whale, lost in the confusion of violent waters as their prey continues its fight.

Foam-Seeker is thrown forward and he tumbles across the deck into the legs of Orcinus Kuronbo, bringing him to his knees. His head turns towards the oar well to glimpse the carnage there and he grimaces once... and then his eyes widen in awful realization. He turns his head toward the steersmen clinging to the wheel, and he yells at him in a commanding voice that rises greatly above the chaos, "RIGHT THE SHIP... RIGHT THE SHIP!"

Hidenouri makes a shrill shriek as the ballista is suddenly crushed. She instinctively looks around her and begins crawling toward Rabi, holding onto the rail to steady herself as she moves toward the struggling girl.

Riva looks toward Kuronbo and the others. As the ship jerks and she picks up the vibrations, the wave of fear and pain from below, she crouches, bracing herself. Her color becomes very pale at the mental blows of the strong emotions being released. One hand reaches out to anchor the Varati woman, muscles tensing as she tries to pull her back aboard. Already her eyes are focused on the water and it is clear she intends to join those below once those in her immediate area are safe.

And then the rope slackens for an instant as the whale gathers itself and then it RISES INTO THE AIR! Its leap causes it to clear the water by over a dozen and a half feet and it hits the water head first into a dive towards the sea floor... attempting to drag the Iruka down with it...

One hundred pounds versus a whole boat and whale's worth of inertia. It's not much of a contest -- Elania stumble-rolls, skid-bouncing off the smooth ship-planks, landing against something unpleasantly hard. She sprawls there for several seconds, shouting and chaos erupting around her, then struggles for her feet, dazed. "Imphada?" she calls, looking around in a panic.

In contrast to the rising panic, Yoritomo's outward reaction is one of focused intent after a moment of surprise, as he is rocked by the sudden lean of the ship. He throws his other arm onto the railing and grasps it fiercely, wrestling for a heightened state of balance as he dances himself to an upright carriage. He tears his eyes away from the scene of panic within the water as he turns towards the contents of the ship itself, giving the crew and passengers a quick, if intense survey, centering on Kuronbo and moving from one to another. As the boat is rocked again, he loses his balance and starts to stumble in a jarring motion, attempting to control where he lands in an intended avoidance of passengers, or anything undesirable to collide with. This would be just about anything but the decks themselves.

The Iruka is yanked forward and then the prow of the boat is jerked downwards and the forward twenty feet of the vessel disappear beneath the waves, carrying several of the screaming and wounded crew-members with it into the ocean. Worst of all, the tethered first whale drags the ship violently to the port in a motion that causes all to fall back in that direction. The rigging manages to jerk once on the port rib of the galley and then the entire port gunwale disintegrates, letting water poor unfettered into the Iruka. The port rope now begins to work itself over the aft of the vessel as the second whale's motions quicken...

The fallen Empyrean and the Atlantean keeping him afloat are only shoved towards the ship by the huge surging wave that lifts with the whale's leap and dive. The second Atlantean can be seen as a limp blur flying through the air, the last destructive flip of the beast's tail crushing his body and sending it flying away to land quite a distance away with a dull splash. The Princess -- in the roiling violence of water -- goes almost unseen. Those with the time, safety and inclination needed to watch might see a thin shimmer of paler color in the water streaking down after the marauding beast. Perhaps not. Those able to hear would only sense silence from the mind of the female.

The Iruka is now out of control upon the seas... being dragged forward at an ever increasing pace and the prow continues to bite deeper and deeper into the waves.

Hidenouri is jerked backward as the ship lurches forward under the weight of the whale's descent. Under the spray of the sea, it is difficult to see others clearly. She clings to a mast, trying to sense what others might do... feel.

Rabi finds herself flipped around as the boat is jerked forwards and down at an angle, her back banging against Riva's arm before slamming against the struts of the railing farther forward, winding her. One hand comes free of the strut and flails for a hold, a hold against anything -- she can't see the strut from which she is hanging. She hears Elania's cry and looks around, her dazed golden eyes meeting up with Riva.

Elania's sent tumbling again. She's dexterous, under most circumstances, even flicker-quick, but she's never had to cope with the 'ground' moving under her like this. Shouts, the deep, unhappy groans of wood strained one hair below breaking point, hissing water. This is so very, very not good. Again, she struggles to right herself, trying to pull herself up an empty spool of rope, fingers white-knuckled on the wood. "Imphada!" she repeats, voice breaking. Survival is just not worth it if it means having to face Rabi's husband with bad news.

A boil of crimson surges to the surface of the water rushing by the Iruka, accompanied by the piercing vibration of the whale's bellow of pain. Not enough to even slow the forward progress. But the invisible efforts of Shinjukou continue -- she is presumably down there, the one causing what damage is possible given the creature's maddened flight through the ocean. It's difficult to argue with madness mixed with an instinct to live, even when armed with a spear.

The port rope rides up over the edge of the upper deck railing and it then surges forward with quick momentum, and the rising Orcinus Decemvir pulls the Sylvan Mate back to the deck and he yells, "Look out!" and the rope sweeps one sailor over the edge of the railing and then strikes the unsuspecting steersmen with terrible force and tears his head and right arm from his body, casting crimson across the deck in a terrible swath. The dead man is cast to the side like a toy and his cartwheeling form strikes the Varati woman, Rabi, full and throws her over the edge of the railing into the churning waves below.

She feels the strain of the ship clearly through the wood; it thrums with energy, but it is all wrong. Rabi almost manages to get her flailing hand onto something solid when she is struck. And then it is gone, gone -- her hold is gone and the ship is leaping away from her rapidly, the horizon bent at a terrible angle -- the remaining arm of the dead man curls around her almost tenderly and she tastes blood and she has time to gasp--

The ocean is not soft. It is not smooth. It is like hitting a jagged cliff and is it COLD. Everything changes: the light is grey and blue and green and thick and the sounds are filled with the mind-piercing screams of the whale and the ship and the bubbling sounds of air -- her precious air -- streaming away from her body.

Riva lunges forward, one knee down to brace and webbed toes splaying as they wedge against the base of the rail of the pitching vessel. She extends her hand toward Rabi attempting to grasp her again as the irregular movements of the vessel toss the two around. She nods to something said and again looks toward the water as if deciding whether to let the woman go and tend to something of higher priority.

The feverish battle being fought beneath the waves does not go unrewarded. Slowly, more and more of the immense creature can be seen rising closer to the surface -- though its rush towards open waters doesn't slow in the least. With its rise, through the foam and boil of water, the Princess can be seen again as well. Tiny in comparison, the woman has anchored herself to the whale's lower side by driving the spear deep into its flesh. To this anchor she clings, the water nearly obscuring the violent blur of one arm as it stabs again and again at the whale's skin -- a knife might seem to be an inconsequential weapon against something this size, but something is working. Now if she could just get the thing to stop completely...

Violently clinging to what little footing he has, Yoritomo is indeed sent sprawling against the deck, hands open and outwards like some sort of performing acrobat, although this movement is nowhere near as majestic in the sense of performance. After an unpleasant impact, he pushes himself upwards to his footing and in fact, bounds back to his feet and then rapidly attempts to make his way across the deck in a struggle against the very ship itself in heading towards Kuronbo's general direction, looking wary of any possible falling objects which might cause an untimely and extremely unpleasant cessation of cranial integrity -- that is, avoiding getting his head smashed open like a melon. As he moves, he barely hesitates in quickly pulling up a fallen sailor with an insistent hand, who happens to be in his path.

The port-side rope completes its deadly sweep over the aft end and then returns back to the port side, and is joined by the starboard rope as the diving whale carries the rope underneath the spine of the crippled Iruka. The water is pouring rapidly into the oar bay. This is clearly evident and Orcinus Kuronbo fights his way upward to the spinning wheel of the Iruka. Foam-Seeker reaches the wheel just ahead of the Orcinus Decemvir and attempts to grasp the wheel... as his hands grasp it, he is pulled end over end and the wheel smashes him in the neck in a spray of crimson and crack of bone. However, he manages to arrest its movement just long enough for Kuronbo to grasp the wheel and steady it for an instant.

Kuronbo looks at Yoritomo and yells, "Help! We are taking on water from the port!" He attempts to push the wheel to the starboard against the conflicting might of the dying whale and he shouts again, "We need to peg the Iruka full starboard!"

Sliding toward the side railing, Yukari throws her hands out to grasp at the bottom rung of the bench to steady herself. In a near hanging position, she pulls herself to her knees and wraps both arms around the railing. Blood splatters across her face and gown like red paint onto a willing canvas of snow. She lets out a faint cry and clamps her eyes shut in what is without a doubt a moment of total and utter fear. In her current state of fright and ineffective mobility, there is little to be done other than what she is doing.

Riva has obviously not met Faisal. Hell, Elania's only seen him from afar, heard talk of the Seraskier, and with all things considered, she's a hundred pounds of very determined graisha. With all this chaos, there's got to be rope. Rope and... no, even better, wood. A stretch of railing lays across the deck, sharp-splintered at one end -- Elania grabs it, drags it to the edge of the galley, and pushes it in, jumping after it a second later. She hits the water, struggles to the surface, gulping air and saltwater together before she can tread water strong enough to start back towards Rabi, towing the railing along with her. Slow, so slow; she'll never wrinkle her nose at webbed fingers again.

Which way is up? The thrashing water spins Rabi -- it frees her from her dead companion's grisly attentions but she is lost in the darkness. She knows that to try to draw breath is death. Her chest hurts, aching from the need for more air. The water is filled with the sound of groaning, screeching wood and the screams of the whale. She reaches up -- at least, the way she thinks is up -- and kicks her feet, hoping to find the surface.

It really is only a matter of time before the whale has to slow -- its blood is gushing freely from innumerable wounds, the most notable being the gaping hole in its gut where the harpoon still lodges. The damage Shinjukou is doing is tiny compared to that, though she continues to stab and stab and stab -- but the near-constant sting of the knife driving into its flesh is enough to finally drive it to the surface. It's Pasiphae's will now whether the Iruka will survive the damage done, that continues to be done, even as the beast's desperate flight begins to slow, strength gradually ebbing away with the severity of its blood loss.

With swiftness borne of sheer desperation, Yoritomo's head responds in only the briefest and faintest of nods, striding and near-stumbling a small handful of times until he regains a firmer sense of tenacious balance, delicately stepping over a piece of debris until he fights his way towards the wheel and the Decemvir himself, an arm outstretched in anticipation, he seems to avoid even giving visual regard to the ruined, bloody form of the Foam-Seeker who was claimed by the violent tumult of the waves and the beast who has challenged the Iruka. To him, this has transcended the level of a hunt, it has now become a pitched battle of sorts, and he has thrown himself into it with a ferocity of a warrior, if a focused one. Upon approach, he attempts to lay hands upon the wheel itself and aid in Kuronbo's righting of the ship with his own force as well.

As the whale reaches the surface, the two remaining Empyreans dive with a warlike scream and launch their javelins at the large back of the creature, attempting to cause it harm. The creature's motions begin to slow, giving the Iruka an instant of respite... but an instant is all that the Iruka needs to survive...

The prow of the Iruka rises as the whale surfaces and the ropes beneath the spine of the Iruka part ways. With a groan of anguish, several members of the wounded crew pick themselves up off the deck, wet with blood and salt-water and they retrieve the oars that remain and attempt to bite into the water with them on the starboard side, trying to slow the race of the vessel. The Iruka pegs to starboard based off this and the combined efforts of the Yoritomo and Orcinus Kuronbo at the wheel. Slowly, the Iruka begins to claw itself back from the edge of a watery death.

Hidenouri didn't see Rabi fall over the side, but she does see Elania make her mad scramble down the tangled rope. She crawls carefully to that part of the ship and looks down over the side, trying to see Elania and hold on to the tether.

Riva slips into the water without a splash, joining the Varati woman as she slips in to the sea and with strong strokes is under and supporting the two. She reaches for Rabi's hands with the intention of anchoring them on the piece of wood. She also seems to be tugging her garments off so they do not drag her down.

Paddle. Paddle. Stop. Breathe. Paddle. Sputter. Paddle s'more. Elania is so not cut out for this, except perhaps out of sheer tenacity and stubbornness. But she struggles onward, coughing on the frothy sea water. Just a little further. Just a little more. There -- flailing scarves, so pretty dry, so dangerous wet, and other hands, bless them, webbed hands, helping her -- she grabs for Rabi as well, trying to help the woman cling to the piece of wood, feet kicking hard as she can make them go.

The whale looses a final defiant bellow -- more groan and loss of its last breath than true burst of sound. Its bulk begins to roll in the water, the great tail trying futilely to push it forward. A useless endeavor -- the body fails, thrashes and spasms violently, sending up a last round of waves -- then goes still. The roll is completed, dragging Shinjukou from the water on its belly -- her arm linked over the spear used to anchor her to the whale's side. The pale gleam of her form has been dyed red and from this distance she appears to be nothing more than a limp, exhausted smear of crimson against the white flesh of the dead animal.

Yoritomo's webbed fingers, spaced out, continue to grasp the helm with desperate sort of intent. The sheer percentage of bodily power invested within this effort is evidenced by the bent state of his knees, giving him additional leverage in righting the course of the Iruka, glancing almost askance at the man with him. A visually odd mix, strikingly so, one so white and one so dark both converging upon the helm of the troubled vessel. Lips parted slightly to reveal a hint of teeth pressed together ever-so-faintly, his duel with the waters continues.

Rabi is sinking rapidly as her thirsty, thick silks drink in the water and pull her downward. But one flailing arm slaps into Elania's hand. And then the slender graisha finds herself yanked downward, a replay in miniature of the story of the Whale and the Iruka. But then Riva arrives. Rabi struggles hard, the last of her breath streaming out of her, and as her head breaks the surface she doesn't even know that she can take a breath. Her one arm wraps around Riva's shoulders while the other clutches at Elania -- she doesn't even know to whom she is clinging, only that she is clinging to someone -- and finally her battered lungs overcome her willpower even as her consciousness goes black around the edges: with a ragged, wet sound, she draws breath through the sopping wet veil that clings so tightly to her face that its pretense of modesty is utterly destroyed.

The final efforts of the whale are to no avail... the ropes slacken as the fierce creature expires upon the barbed bolt in its innards. The Iruka's prow is now out of the water and the ship is listing hard to starboard, its ruined port side rolled towards the sky and shedding the accumulated sea-water. With the final slackening, some of the crew seems stunned... but others have more sense and they shake themselves out of their panic and they race to the pumps and timbers and attempt to fix some of the damage. The Iruka is now bobbing in the waves, leaving a trail of timber, rope, and bodies.

Rabi's breath sobs in and out as she bobs in the water, supported on both sides. The water is so cold that she is numb; she doesn't feel Riva's quick undressing of her. She is aware of the waves, though, and how they slap her face as she tries to breath. She coughs, choking, and shakes her head, trying to dislodge the wet silk veil.

Orcinus Kuronbo leans exhaustively against the wheel and he looks up to the Atlantean that is at the wheel with him and he nods once, memorizing the face of the man and he then turns away and surveys the damage once before bellowing, "Shore the port wall! Gather the ropes on the centerline rigging! All Atlantean crew-members into the water to retrieve our comrades!" His voice is steady now as he attempts to calm the situation.

Elania's an adequate swimmer for a land-dweller, but nothing that can compare to panic-strength -- she bobs under for a few seconds, flailing for the surface and trying not just to clutch at Rabi in panic and drag her right back under, then resurfaces with a cough and splutter, tangling her arms around the railing. Air. It's never been so sweet. With shivering fingers, she tries to help Rabi with her clinging veil, so she can breathe more easily.

In the water, Riva speaks softly, "Garments must go, drag down... strip or risk death." She kicks steadily, toes and fins flaring to give stability and keep three afloat. Her path seems to have direction and approaches a larger flat piece of wood torn from the side of the ship moving more distant. "Up on there. Will support till they come back for you or we tow you ashore. Do not want to be to close to them now." The words bubble slightly as waves slap the three in the face, Riva not seeming to care.

Yukari hoists her body over the railing and dives into the waters below, shedding the confines of her bloody gown for her more comfortable skin. She darts through the ocean, disappearing into the darkened waters to retrieve any bodies she can find. She surfaces with an injured Atlantean, gazing up at the Iruka and silently wondering how to get him to the deck. Without an immediate answer, she seems content just to hold him in her arms.

On the whale, Shinjukou drags herself further up on the carcass' belly. Purchase is almost lost as her left arm slips uselessly from the spear holding her in place -- but quick as a summer storm her right hand flashes out, slams the knife she still grips into the whale's hide. The slide back into the water is halted clumsily that way, her backwards progress stopped with a sudden jerk. And that takes the last of her energy. Better to wait now to be picked up, close her eyes and rest her forehead against the cold flesh. And that's what she does.

Rabi releases Riva, transferring the death's drip she can't feel to the bit of railing to which the two have pulled her. She clutches it, hard, her fingers numb. Her lips are blue and her teeth begin to chatter and her eyes widen at Riva's words. She suddenly realizes that the saris -- which are nothing more than long single strips of silk to begin with -- are half-unwound from around her body. No! But at the same time the ridiculousness of all of it strikes her: she's bobbing out in the ocean, for the sake of the Lady, about to drown. More mist gets in her face and it tastes like copper: a great cloud of the whale's blood and bits of blubber have floated this way and now engulf the three women. She won't let go of the railing to strip, no ma'am. But she feels the cloth dragging at her and twists in the water, a dancer's sway taught to her by Laila. The silk unwinds the rest of the way and is claimed by the Deep.

From the aft deck, Orcinus Kuronbo retrieves the yellow silk pendant that has fluttered to the deck at his feet and he waves it towards the Varati woman, and the two Empyreans comply with the instruction and fly quickly in the direction of the Varati woman and the graisha girl. The crew-members on the starboard side begin to fling rope ladders over that side, attempting to retrieve those that have fallen near the boat. Shinjukou's companions assist with the pickup and two swim back towards her to check the rigging and retrieve the Crown Princess.

At the righting of the ship's balance, Yoritomo straightens to a more vertical sort of stance, relaxing his grip in a weary brand of relief, even if not fully. And then he lets a muted sigh escape as he rapidly shifts his head in a precise series of directions to immediately assess the situation or state of crew. Out of what might be conveyed to some as an uncharacteristic use of verbal speech, the words flow from his lips in a soft, yet insistent tone. "Would you require me here or out there?" And with that, he alters his footing again, webbed toes brushing against the deck. The 'out there' delineated by a swift turn of his head is the raging tempest of a sea which has now only started to dissipate its challenge of the Iruka's life.

Elania refuses to strip. Completely. Even if those silwar are positively ballooned with water and hamper her water-treading. The sandals are bobbing around somewhere, or lost to the deep, but she Will. Keep. Her. Clothes. Then again... she reaches for the rope ladder, trying to help Rabi up it, and finds her arm awash in bloodied water. How will she ever get clean? "Up, up," she sputters in encouragement to Rabi, trying her best to help. With no leverage, there's little she can be but moral support, but she tries anyway.

Yukari swims toward a rope ladder and throws a hand upward to grasp the lowest rung. She drags the Atlantean with her, but he is in no condition to climb, and she is unable to do so alone. So she waits, patiently, eyeing some others that are overhead and coming down to assist with the rescuing. The man in her arms moans in obvious pain and is silenced with a gentle look.

In any other situation, Rabi would be mortified to the core of her being to be outside, naked, in the sight of others -- in the sight of other MALES, and most especially to be in the sight of male Empyreans. But all she can feel is a terrible sense of relief as she curls up on the length of wood to which Riva and Elania have led her. She's so cold... she doesn't ever remember being so cold in her life... she feels as if she is frozen to the wood. She can't feel her toes or fingers and she can barely move. Nor does she want to. She just wants to sleep. The Empyreans grab hold and relieve the poor Sylvan of her wet and naked burden, hauling Rabi up over the railing and depositing her gently on the deck. She waits for a few moments, feeling the splintered wood under her cheek. Her limbs are filled with lead -- every motion is an effort -- slowly, she points towards the edge. Down, she means. To pull up Elania.

For once the Orcinus Princess does not brush aside the offer of assistance in the face of personal weakness. She is tired, and therefore it is fitting she be helped from her rather precarious perch. There is plenty of time for pride later, after this aftermath of this decidedly unpleasant situation is dealt with. So no protest is given to being gently transferred from whale to the back of one of the Atlanteans sent to aid her. Left arm trailing limp in the water, right curled around the man's throat, she's towed slowly back to the Iruka to await her turn with the ladders.

Riva's glance toward the ship is followed by her making sure the younger girl is anchored in place as well. She then instructs. "Kick, direction of the ship, hold fast." Her long legs churn the water and her whole body works to drive the wood to which the two cling forward in a powerful thrust. She shakes her head at the foolish youngster's pride. Near the ship, she slips out of her garment and, wet and inadequate as it is, offers it to Rabi. For her own part, her loincloth and hair, Ohhh, how colorful, vivid green with red blood streaks and speckled with white fatty gore, is long enough to hide the essentials.

For whatever reason, Yoritomo graces the dark-skinned Decemvir with a deep nod and repositions himself at the wheel for the time being, this odd sort of helmsman focusing himself with the sustained steadying of the tortured vessel. A sheen of calm returns over his carriage as he focuses himself diligently upon his given task, pale green eyes blinking out at the damage she has sustained. He shakes his tousled hair back behind his head and remains seemingly... alert.

A wet, cold fox is almost, but not quite as, pitiful as a wet, cold cat. No matter what form they may be in, currently. Elania's helped aboard, and crawls hands-and-knees to curl up somewhere in the proximity of Rabi, teeth chattering as well. She can only hope they're both out of the way, as adrenaline starts dribbling away, leaving leaden limbs behind.

Orcinus Kuronbo takes a few steps away from the wheel and slowly straightens to his full height as he moves forward to the railing and places both of his hands upon it in a grim reminder that he is still in command. He surveys the wreckage of the front part of his vessel and he looks intently at his remaining crew. They are barely half of what once was, and many of the survivors are gravely injured. Still, they all pause and stare up at the Decemvir and he regally nods his head once and then extends his webbed palm outwards in salute... holding it there for several seconds. He then turns his head slightly and he states to Yoritomo, "Ensure the riggings are secure... it will not do to dishonor our fallen crew by losing our prize now. Then make best possible speed back to the docks." His face is stoic, as well as his voice.

Rabi shivers under the wet covering but yes, she is covered. This is good. 'Elania?' she tries to say, forgetting that she can't speak, but the pain of the attempt reminds her. With dogged determination, she levers herself up with one arm, looking around for the graisha as red water drips down off of her and runs in rivulets to the edge of the deck.

After a time Shinjukou is finally helped aboard -- the excruciating climb up the ladder accomplished with the aid of the Atlantean male who carried her in. As soon as feet touch ruined deck, the begrimed and begored woman stumbles forward, legs having gone almost as watery as the ocean she calls home. Steadying herself with an impatient grabbing of the larger male's arm, she tucks her useless left arm close to her body and surveys the damage done to the Iruka -- lips pressed into the thinnest of lines and eyes flat with the heavy weight of mingled pain and exhaustion. A valiant attempt is made for dignity however as she then strides -- slowly, unsteadily -- to the side of her brother. If he can be regal in the face of all of this then, by Pasiphae, so can she.

The Orcinus Decemvir turns his head at the sound coming from the corner of the deck... Foam-Seeker is lying there at the verge of death, his ruined chest oddly misshapen from the crushing blow that he had received. He is making wet sounds and attempting to rise. With nary a word, Orcinus Kuronbo makes his way towards the fallen Sylvan Mate and kneels next to him.

Riva slips back away from the others seeking where she might be needed most. Her glance goes toward the Princess coming aboard and gives her a nod of approval. Next, her gaze rests on each present and she looks overboard as if making sure none are still in the water needing help.

A smile of absolute relief comes over Yukari's lips as a few of the crew members provide their assistance by dragging that man upward to the safety of the deck. She takes to the water again and seeks out the next body, and the next, carrying unconscious Atlanteans to the rope ladders. A look of concentrated determination remains fixed over her pale features as she delivers bodies, dead and alive to the crewmen. There is no time for sorrow, yet. After she has exhausted her usefulness and scoured the water for people, she too climbs the ladder, swinging her legs over the railing and taking a place on the soaked planks. With her arms hugging her body, she bows her head and heaves a sigh.

Gently, the flat of a coral blade is touched to Kuronbo's shoulder. The knife used to drive the whale to the surface, kept by Shinjukou in her return to the Iruka. The woman's head inclines respectfully forward, indicating the fallen Sylvan, the look in her eyes meaningful as gaze rests on her brother.

With yet another nod, Yoritomo's eyes narrow upon the water beyond the hull of the ship, and he continues to steer after checking on her welfare with one more sweeping glance at the wounded but unbeaten vessel who has proven true in her task. A sidelong, oddly reverent look lingers upon random members of the wounded crew as he rolls his shoulders back and makes minute corrections in course over a the next short period of time. "They have all given much in our service," he mouths aloud, to no particular person. The cast to the voice is at once both slightly sorrowful, and (to an even greater degree), respectful. The wind and spray has caused his hair to dangle a few loose strands down the side of his face, but he makes no move to displace them.

Rabi struggles to sit up. Exhaustion seeps at her, Riva's sodden robe pulls at her. She pushes herself up against a railing spar, unaware that it is the very one that she had hung to so unsuccessfully before. She looks over at the trio: two whole, one horribly half-whole, and watches with sad eyes.

"'M-m-phad-da," Elania rasps, rubbing at blood-slimed hair, pushing it back from her face, cold-reddened eyes focusing on Rabi. "Y-you are, ch-h-est, bre-eathe o-okay?" Stutter-to-English dictionary, anyone? Her eyes wander away from the Varati woman, and look over the remains of the galley, and the bloodied, beaten crew with a dazed, numb expression. What happened? She tucks her hands under her armpits, and looks back to the whale carcasses for a long while.

The Sylvan Mate reaches upwards and grasps Orcinus Kuronbo's free arm and pulls at it with urgency. His efforts spill more crimson from his open mouth onto his chest and Kuronbo's hands. There are tortured sounds coming from the writhing form in his arms... but the eyes are locked on the onyx-skinned Atlantean whom he has served for so long. Without breaking eye contact, Orcinus Kuronbo reaches behind his shoulder and accepts the knife from the proffered hand and he then raises the blade high. There is a moment of realization in Foam-Seeker's eyes, and he then closes them in anticipation as Kuronbo drives the blade into the heart of the Sylvan, twisting once, ending the agony of Foam-Seeker in an instant. The body twitches once in response... and then Orcinus Kuronbo lifts the body in his arms and stands.

Rabi manages a nod. It hurts to breathe, but that doesn't matter. That she can breathe is all that matters. Rabi opens up the wet robe a bit, offering Elania closeness that might, perhaps, banish a little of the terrible bone-chilling cold. So Elania is candala -- Elania is also candala who helped save her life. Her lips shiver, the rich browns of her face gone pale from the cold and re-highlighted with the horror of red whale blood. But the rest of her is beyond shivering. She sees the knife fall and closes her eyes, turning towards Elania.

Riva withdraws from the strangers and braces herself. As Foam-Seeker's life ends, she turns on her heel. Without facing the siblings, she speaks, "There is a Sentry posting near. Will find them, they can help with repairs, send more to help crew."

Peering past a tangle of dark hair, Yukari takes note of the sacrifice, jerking slightly and beginning to shiver, though the wet body of an Atlantean is hardly touched by the cold. She pulls her knees up to her chest, crossing her legs at her ankles. With her forehead pressed to her knees, she just sits there shaking, hands braced on either side of her. There is an alarming lack of stoicism evident now as she turns her face away from view and begins to cry without so much as a sound.

Rabi opens her eyes and touches Elania's shoulder. Her fingers are icy and they are shaking. As clearly and carefully as she can, she mouths a question: 'Hurt?

A near soundless murmur tumbles from Shinjukou's lips, a prayer given even as the coral blade strikes home in the Sylvan's heart. Then that blood-streaked head lifts, gaze turning to the floating carcasses tethered to the ship. Good hand finds what's left of the railing, tightening in both belated reaction to the stress of this day's events and in steadying support as legs threaten to fold beneath her again. "That would be best, yes." A quiet reply to Riva's statement, her thin voice touched oddly with a note of apparent soothing reassurance.

Orcinus Kuronbo takes the body of his companion and subordinate and walks down the center of the oar well... once again, the crew pauses in respect as one of their number passes by them in the arms of their leader. For a moment, each of them considers the life of the Sylvan, Foam-Seeker... the moments of laughter... the moments of merriment... the moments of fighting and prevailing over the elements. All of those pass in their eyes and the life of the Sylvan and their mournful respect is symbolic for all those that passed by today. Orcinus Kuronbo reaches the ravaged prow of the Iruka and he then gathers the Sylvan body close to him and he dives into the waves... carrying his friend away to the deeps in the only sort of tribute that is appropriate.

Warm-blooded bodies are stubborn -- given time, they'll warm even sodden robes. Elania huddles in against Rabi without any sign of self-consciousness. Warmth is a Very Good Thing right now. Her shivers are a tremulous presence, evident most in her fingertips. "'L-lan-nia's s'o-okay," she chatter-promises Rabi, bobbing her head a little in the sodden-warm snuggle. She rubs her breastbone as she says it, though. Landlubber lungs don't appreciate saltwater, it seems. She turns, watching Kuronbo for a brief moment, the terrible sadness of the moment darkening her eyes even more.

Closing and reopening his eyes lethargically at the ending of the Sylvan's suffering, Yoritomo bows his head in a mournful observance of the happening, and then turns from the man who fell at the post he now struggles to fill in his stead. He eventually returns his vision to the sea which claims the man only moments later, and then centers his own upon the form of Riva, acknowledging her speech. "Heading there now." He says aloud, in abject agreement.

Riva has disappeared over the side of the ship and does not reappear. From time to time, an Atlantean sentry rises from the water and scrambles up the rope ladder on the side to place themselves under Yoritomo's orders to get the boat back to docks.

As Elania's body warmth brings up her own temperature, Rabi begins to shiver. But as the boat moves the air flows over the wet robe and her shivering stops again. Her eyes drape half-closed. It would be so good to sleep... she fights the sleep. Do not sleep, she tells herself, remembering once long ago when she had to fight the sleep of death. Do not sleep until you see him again. Wait until you see him. You must wait, for Drisana's sake. For Jaimizal's sake. Eventually, a dry blanket is brought before this battle becomes critical, and the dryness of it is like fire in and of itself. Rabi helps Elania to wrap the blanket around their two cold bodies, gradually warming back to a safe and proper temperature.

It aches, a bit, as fingers and toes return to proper temperatures, but Elania doesn't begrudge it in the least. The blanket is warm and wondrous and good; she curls up semi-fetal beside Rabi, coughing occasionally but mostly silent and still. It's not until the city-noises of Haven start to drift out over the waves that she looks up and nudges Rabi gently. "H-home," she whispers in a salt-stung rasp.

Methodically, Yoritomo goes about his chosen task with a diligence akin to religion. Maybe this is his own tribute to the fallen Foam-Seeker. With occasional direction of various individuals to assess and maintain the more glaring breaches in the ship's structure, he steers her along towards the proscribed course. "May Pasiphae guide us," he says in an eerily soft, verbalized murmur. This hunt might have been a sacrifice in more than one sense.

Rabi thinks every breath will taste like salt and blood forever. Home. And she realizes what's going to happen when she gets home. Maybe she can just slip into the Atesh-Gah, naked but for a blanket, and no one will notice? She nods to Elania and points to her, mouthing the word again: 'Home?' She looks inquisitive, and pulls her toes in under the edge of the blanket. Her hair feels like icicles and she can only imagine how it looks, but at least her body is relatively warm.

Yukari is shrouded in a blanket, though where the token of generosity came from, she could not possibly say, having been immersed in her own silent vigil for the fallen. Those beautiful blue eyes, now full of tears and red from this pain she has felt so deeply, stare forward and across the broken Iruka toward the ocean. This was just too much, too much too fast. She glances around silently, wondering if anyone could possibly fathom that this was her first day in Haven.

Almost there. Almost home. Elania bobs her head in a little nod to Rabi, red hair gone a nasty shade of scarlet-brown from the whale blood. Now that she's warming and drying, it's starting to crust. Yum. "'L-lania will help you home?" she replies to Rabi's silent-mouthed word. Is that what she meant? She hopes so. She looks to the bow of the ship as the docks steadily approach. Closer. Closer. The sand will never feel so good again.

Rabi shakes her head slightly. She points to Elania. 'Your. Home.' Her lips form the words with exaggerated care.

The Atlantean at the helm, pale as an apparition, lingers silently as the ship fast approaches the docks at Haven. Several members of the crew scurry about in various tasks, all in preparation for docking. "It is done," he states, mutely, in a volume that strains to not be drowned out by the din of the sea's roar. Yoritomo continues to look pained, tired, yet, there is a tenacity in his eyes that suggests a certain sense of victory. Although, victory not without cost.

"Oh. Vayu's." Elania looks suddenly mournful. And here she was supposed to be moving in upon the Iruka. Now... How long does it take to rebuild ships? "W-we can go th-here," she agrees. A sudden thought seizes her chilled brain, and she adds, "D-dry clothes, and kaffe?" She looks towards the dock, feeling the galley's inertia slowing, and starts to help Rabi to her feet, best as she can. If anyone tries to take the blanket away, they're given quite the look -- she is Orcinus Shinzou, and she wants Rabi to have that blanket, dangit.

Rabi gives Elania's shoulder a gentle squeeze, a look of thanks on her face for the Sylvan's kindness. She accepts the help gratefully. Vayu's, hm? She thinks, and nods in answer to the question. 'Dry,' she mouths. And, 'kaffe.' She smiles gently, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself. She looks like a poor shudra woman from the butchers' pits but she is alive, and Elania is alive, and so many are dead. Sadly, she looks over the ruined pit and ravaged bow, and gazes over the two whales. It will feed many, yes. But at what a cost. Carefully, she steps closer to the edge of the upper deck. It doesn't matter if no one sees her, because the intention is what is important: she bows, deeply, a formal bow of great gratitude, her expression one of sorrow for what the crew has lost this day.

And without further mishap, the troubled ship sails into port in an agonizingly drawn-out affair. Yoritomo makes a few casual orders where needed, this weary attaché-become-helmsman-become-captain delegates a few bits of responsibility to the individual crew members and steers her meticulously into the safe harbor, only beginning to truly show his exhaustion by leaning against the wheel. A breathy sigh escapes his lips as he surveys the area around the ship proper, and lingers at the helm, making the last few adjustments needed.

FIN  

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