The island of the dead.
An island lost to time.
An island inhabited with demons and undead horrors.
So what happens when you get washed up on the island of the dead?
You fight to get off it. That's what you do.
And currently for Aphmau, Laurence, Ga...
"Be ready. For we cannot run from this war, only face it head on." - Leonidas
"Warriors are not those who always win. Warriors are the ones who always fight." - Jacob Lycan.
There was a loud roar as Zhanior landed on the deck with a dull thud. Rhaegar quickly got off, stroking the blue dragon's scales with pride. Most of the mighty nien had thick woollen blankets draped over their shoulders, allowing the poor souls to dry themselves in the warm weather. Corazòn seemed worried as he started to shout out orders to the crew below him. Rhaegar was about to look up until he felt the sudden heat of an Eldritch blast miss his neck by mere millimetres. His hand immediately went to his sword, drawing it and looking eyes with a certain warlock captain. "Cannons! Fire!" Corazòn shouted at the top of his lungs. Rhaegar turned to look, only to be suddenly deafened by the blasting of several cannons. Zhanior suddenly took to the sky as an arc of scorching ray suddenly hit the deck in front of him. Rhaegar rolled across the desk, dodging rays, bullets and arrows as he got to the bow of the ship. As he ran he clenched his fist, a visible swell in the seawater followed his actions. He leapt up onto the bowsprit and forced his hand like he was chucking a fireball at them. The swell in the sea suddenly rushed at them like Moby Dick after a whaling ship. It smashed into the hull of the already sinking ship and reduced it to further driftwood, sending some of the opposite crew to fall off the deck and into the sea below. Corazòn spun the wheel with speed, causing the joyful damnation to veer off to the right and making a incredibly sharp turn to the right. Rhaegar grabbed the saddle of Zhanior as the wings started to bellow with air. He pulled himself up as another stray cannon shot from the Squall eater almost hit the large target. A loud chord struck through the air, as a blinding flash of heat metal shot right through the sails and setting them alight. He turned to see the half-orcish bard playing his instrument and singing to keep the crew in time with each other. Another explosion of light green signalled that Prudence had entered the battlefield with a terrifying roar of Eldritch terrors. Another bright red glow of lit up magic symbols as she summoned a Eldritch terror upon the decks of the Squall eater.
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She let out a insane cackle, as the terror leapt upon the now frightened crew with a gargled howl. Egbert chucked a lit bomb upon the deck of the Squall eater that exploded upon hitting the deck. The shockwave sent another of the crew flying off the deck and slamming into the waters below. Rhaegar quickly urged Zhanior to the sky, weaving away from another roar of the Squall eater's cannons that sent splintered wood to fly into the air in all directions. Zhanior opened his mouth, the smell of smoke entering the air as he torched the deck of the Squall eater with dark blue flames. Some of the crew simply jumped off the deck, preferring the silence of the sea rather than the screaming of the vibrant flames. Corazòn made another swift turn, the explosions of cannons roaring in his ears like some infernal beasts. His eye squinted as he drew his hand crossbow from underneath his coat and loaded a explosive bolt with ease. He aimed for a open cannon hole those cannon had been blasted away by a volley from his own, his eye found it with reliable ease. He smirked as he fired with confidence as he turned his ship away from the sinking Squall eater. The bolt found its way into the ship, the sparks landing upon the barrels that were packed with gunpowder.
