The 'manders laughing had Dancer at a loss. "Fucking harebrained flamespitters."

True to their rep, they were half-mad but put together. Handful of Breakers dropped cold in as many heartbeats. That wasn't easy work. Things were only going to get harder from here on. 'Breakers weren't some outfit from the sticks who knew better 'bout shearing sheep than folk. Balo was a rough bastard but knew his business. The lot that followed him were much the same. They were caught unawares but would dig their heels proper now that it was down to it. Their boss wasn't the sort to see failure fondly.

Dancer spotted the familiar face of Jagan but had his own problems at the moment. Others joined but the first raider held attention. Better for their purpose but not necessarily for him. However a purse heavy enough to make Selvari steed buckle had a way of fucking off all manner of self-preservation.

Ajenwi blade now bloodied batted aside the next breaker. Heavy stroke caused the other to stumble with shaky feet. This wasn't the cobbled of Crorefell nor the plains of Jasha. Took more than just a steady hand to handle matters up in the cloud. The Sixth was just as lost but the difference was he knew what was coming and that's what kept him from sleeping with the worms.

He raised his blade to cut down the other but a burst of heat sent him sprawling backwards towards the deck. The last thing Dancer saw was the breaker being enveloped in flame.
 
"Eyes up, Six!" Zalan barked a laugh.

The Breaker man fell to his knees a charred and smoldering cookfire. Hands still swatted at the last thing nerves felt before searing to white nothing.

Jagan smashed his fist into the flame chewed wall of deck planks that had turned his shield. Sections of the matter sent careening forward. Smoke trailing behind the heavy chunks in whooping spirals.

A gout of fire pushed out with striking palm as right foot lunged, and left toe trailed. Veered just around the first block. Twist. Turned. Caught just the corner of the second. Bounced off his striker gauntlet with a harsh clang.

Sent splinters spraying. Biting into skin and flesh. Hand loosed sword. Steel clattered and spun against deck grain.

A shout and groan as the blade skated wild.

Inka, halfling that she was, had gone unnoticed. Unremarked and utterly missed. Snuck, if you could call lowering your head some and crouching by a pair of sellswords armed and running up the wellway sneaking, down below deck.

Just had to set the charges in the engine room.

Jagan clawed his hands together. Knuckles near braided his fingertips ripped through invisible mantle of skin. Surface of the deck ripped open as hands swiped out wide.

The planks rippled and shook and surged like waves surging toward the sinking stone that was Zalan.
 
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