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The sound of clanging metal and fierce screams startled Irra from his comfortable sleep. He knew the sounds of combat by heart and rushed to put on his clothes and magical gauntlets. Bursting out of the captain's door, Irra saw his own men fighting with one another. Even in the dark of the moonlight, he could see the bloodlust in some of his men’s eyes as they slaughtered the comrades that they’ve fought beside for many years. Taking off, Irra launched himself over the railing and into the thick of combat. The humming of his bracers disturbed him, as they were to be used against his own men.
“Captain Gilgamesh,” one of the loyalists shouted in glee at the sight of the tanned ‘king’, blocking a sword that would have split him into two. Another of his men bared his teeth at the Captain and came forward to swing his sword. Using his bracers, Gilgamesh disarmed the attacker and sent him flying with a clean punch. A few of the loyalists came to his side and defended him from other attackers. Fury swelled within Irra, the traitors had the gall to stand up to him.
“Enough!” his gruff voice shouted across the ship, drawing the attention of his men. This did not stop the combat as the mutineers instead gathered courage from his decree. One of Irra’s eyebrows twitched in frustration and the bracers on his wrist hummed. “So be it, filthy traitors,” he decreed. He brought his hands up, moving them in a circular motion before pressing down on an imaginary sphere. The traitor’s around Gilgamesh groaned in exertion as a huge weight was put on all of their shoulders. This gave the loyalists the upper hand they needed in combat, disarming and easily fighting against their slowed opponents. Maintaining this magic, Irra watched with pride as his crew had begun to take back the ship.
Taking his time to survey the filthy rats that betrayed his trust, he hissed at them, “I will let you bottom feeders live if you bring me the ringleader. Who was it?!”
A loud pop echoed through the ship, leaving eerie silence behind it. Irra staggered and clutched his chest, the magic wearing off from the traitors. His breathing became jagged, looking at his hand he could see that blood had stained his hand. Slowly turning his head, he could see the smoke of a gun and the confident woman who stood behind it. His first mate, Dolly Kellam, had a smug smile with venom in her eyes. She was the snake behind this?
She voluptuously stepped down from the stairs, handing her gun off to one of the crew to have it cleaned. Her thick legs gracefully stepped towards Irra and without speaking, kissed his forehead. Rage exploded through Irra, he would feel the life escape from her lips as he strangled her. He attempted to stand, but his wound ached too much. His vision began to blur as he heard her speak to one of the crew members, “Feed him to the sea.”
Unable to struggle, Gilgamesh was helplessly dragged across his own deck before being tossed into the perilous waters of Opealon.
“Captain Gilgamesh,” one of the loyalists shouted in glee at the sight of the tanned ‘king’, blocking a sword that would have split him into two. Another of his men bared his teeth at the Captain and came forward to swing his sword. Using his bracers, Gilgamesh disarmed the attacker and sent him flying with a clean punch. A few of the loyalists came to his side and defended him from other attackers. Fury swelled within Irra, the traitors had the gall to stand up to him.
“Enough!” his gruff voice shouted across the ship, drawing the attention of his men. This did not stop the combat as the mutineers instead gathered courage from his decree. One of Irra’s eyebrows twitched in frustration and the bracers on his wrist hummed. “So be it, filthy traitors,” he decreed. He brought his hands up, moving them in a circular motion before pressing down on an imaginary sphere. The traitor’s around Gilgamesh groaned in exertion as a huge weight was put on all of their shoulders. This gave the loyalists the upper hand they needed in combat, disarming and easily fighting against their slowed opponents. Maintaining this magic, Irra watched with pride as his crew had begun to take back the ship.
Taking his time to survey the filthy rats that betrayed his trust, he hissed at them, “I will let you bottom feeders live if you bring me the ringleader. Who was it?!”
A loud pop echoed through the ship, leaving eerie silence behind it. Irra staggered and clutched his chest, the magic wearing off from the traitors. His breathing became jagged, looking at his hand he could see that blood had stained his hand. Slowly turning his head, he could see the smoke of a gun and the confident woman who stood behind it. His first mate, Dolly Kellam, had a smug smile with venom in her eyes. She was the snake behind this?
She voluptuously stepped down from the stairs, handing her gun off to one of the crew to have it cleaned. Her thick legs gracefully stepped towards Irra and without speaking, kissed his forehead. Rage exploded through Irra, he would feel the life escape from her lips as he strangled her. He attempted to stand, but his wound ached too much. His vision began to blur as he heard her speak to one of the crew members, “Feed him to the sea.”
Unable to struggle, Gilgamesh was helplessly dragged across his own deck before being tossed into the perilous waters of Opealon.