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[Iituem]

You grip the rigging with one hand, using the other to shield your eyes against the driving rain.  Your short, black hair has been plastered against your face by the deluge and your tunic and leggings are soaked to the bone.  You can just see the other ship through the torrents, whipped by winds but relatively unassailed by the rain.  It is hard to make out the figures aboard the other ship, but you can make out their ship-board ballistae being cocked into position.

Beneath you, men scurry back and forth with little discernible purpose.  The cannons lie un-manned and there is no sign of the captain.  Things are going poorly.  Thunder peals through the heavens, and you see flashes of light in the clouds.

[Strife26]

Hook an arm through the rigging and hang on, trusting the occifer-types to get their plans together. Much more likely that the storm will kill you, rather than oversized crossbows, at least until it comes time for a boarding action.

[Sheb]

Run to the Captain's cabin, looking for her. If he's not there, don his uniform and get ready to assume command.

[Iituem]

You hook your arm into the rigging, trusting to the crew to do their job.  This holds for about thirty seconds before one of the enemy ballistae fires, knocking out the crow's nest and snapping part of the rigging.

"Shit!" you find yourself crying, as your tether to safety comes loose.  The rigging is now flapping about wildly, and you barely manage to grab hold of the edge of the sail as it comes loose entirely.  You slide to the deck.

Sliding implies a graceful, smooth movement.  You actually fall the last ten feet, smacking your head against the boom.  You don't know how long it takes for you to regain consciousness, but likely less than a minute as the ship is still intact and the crew still panicked.  You scrabble to your feet and hustle to the captain's cabin.

You fling open the doors to see Captain Murdock weakly flailing on his chair, blood gushing from the stab wound in his chest.  Standing over him is one of the more recent crew hires, a scraggly, bearded Emeralder with two gimlety blue eyes.  And a sabre, you note, dripping with the captain's blood.

He turns towards you and raises the sword.

"Bad moment to walk in, girl," he drawls.

[Sheb]

"Bad moment for a mutiny you mean. I didn't like old Murdock either, but how do you intend to survive this battle now? If this ship sink, you'll be dead like the rest of us. "

[Strife26]

Probably best not to start looking for a weapon. Breaking eye contact with a damn Emeralder isn't the best way to negotiate.

[Iituem]

You glance back to find that the doors have closed behind you.  They open inwards, too, so you'll have to take time to pull them open if you want to leave.  Damn it.

The Emeralder (Duncan, you think?) starts moving towards you, and you are forced to cautiously circle away from him, with both of you equidistant from the door.  The captain's desk is one stride away.  You lock eyes with Duncan, keeping your attention on his movements.

"Bad moment for a mutiny, you mean," you say.  "I didn't like old Murdock either, but how do you intend to survive this battle now?  If the ship sinks, you'll be dead like the rest of us."

Duncan grins and pulls open his shirt with one hand.  There is a silver necklace beneath, upon which a tear-shaped jade stone hangs.  He nods towards the wall, in the direction of the other ship.  He does not break eye contact.

"I've an arrangement, so to speak.  If the ship sinks, I'll make it, and if we surrender all the better.  But now, see, I've told you too much."

He lunges at you with the sabre.

[Sheb]

Dodge to one side and try to make him trip.

[Iituem]

"Fuck!"  The word escapes your lips without any conscious intention, and you dive towards the captain's desk, barely escaping Duncan's stab.  Unthinking, you kick out your leg and catch him in the side of the knee, knocking him loose from his footing.  He goes down onto the knee, yowling, and brings the sabre back up for a slash.

[Strife26]

Now is probably a good time to look for a weapon.

[Sheb]

Retreat behind the captain's corpse, grabbing its saber as you go by.

[Iituem]

You roll over the captain's desk, Duncan's sabre cracking into the desk's wood in your passing.  You grab hold of the sabre in the captain's scabbard, ignoring the croaking and gurgling still coming from the dying man and the blood slick across your arm and drawing the blade up to parry Duncan's second slash.  The swords connect with a bell-like clang and Duncan momentarily withdraws, looking less certain in the face of the bedraggled, blood-stained girl wielding a dying man's blade.

[Strife26]

Go on the offensive. 

[Funk]

Go on the offensive. 

+1

[Sheb]

Go on the offensive. 

+1

+2