 Raid on Pyandonea, Book Three |
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| Added by | Tamriel Data | ||
| ID | T_Bk_RaidPyandoneaSHOTN_V3 | ||
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The Atmorans won the battle.
At the onset, Dreadmund Thu'um-Called a Storm and the Thu'um-Thanes of the other ships followed his lead. In retaliation, the Sea Elves summoned a mist storm, which the Thu'um-Thanes could not clear away without clearing their own Storm as well, and all became a chaos of lightning flashes and indistinct shapes. The Atmoran ships rammed into Sea Elf ships, Thu'um-Thanes grappled with serpents, Sea Elves charged with their skin alight with violent, rapidly changing hues, a strange distinction from their usual pallor. In the end, the Sea Elf fleet was driven to retreat, half of the fleet dodging behind and between islands in flight after the other half sank to the bottom of the sea. The losses of the Atmoran fleet were not nearly as grievous; only a quarter of Dreadmund's fleet was felled. The Sea Elf fleet was stronger than any naval force the Atmorans had yet faced, or would face, but it still fell before them.
Dreadmund led a shore party of forty and set up camp on the one tiny strip of beach they could find. Four faerings' worth of fighters; Captain Dreadmund, Boat-Thane Kehlet Quick-Eared who had woken up soon after the battle, Clever Man Fhalne, War-Wife Vjali, Oar-Wielding Olad, the three elf-slave translators, Raving Savage the Welwa, and Beast-Keeper Mnetnen of the Snow Whale, Captain Thendwyr Twice-Torc'd, Boat-Thane Ysnulson, Ghemek, Bright-Eyed Khem-li who enjoyed throwing Dwemer cylinders full of light at his foes, Hermal, Jjarkel of Tongs, Kaewyn who used the curved swords of the Yokudans, Aariul, Witch-Wife Aldvira who was married to herself, and Vrenduga the very small karstaag-man of the Pillager, Captain Orvar the Wheezing, Boat-Thane Ra'Kaash, Dralsar the Salmon, Tusk'ut'en, Jorn-mora, Wizard who just liked being called Wizard, Sulemeldart, Argan One-Ear, Stehnz the Master Architect, and Lug of the Arch-on-Water, and ten men from the remaining Yoku ship, the other having sunken during the battle.
The shore party's camp was rushed at best, and served little purpose other than to establish a small base of operations to raid the Sea Elves from. A place to hide their loot, too.
A Sea Elf rose from sea, alone and boatless, and approached the camp on the shore. The Atmoran and Yoku warriors swiftly dropped what they were doing, drew their weapons, and trained them upon the elf, but he calmly made noises and then the Sea Elf translator made noises and then the Bird Elf translator made noises and then the Snow Elf translated, "Lower your weapons, I would have words!"
The warriors ignored the elf's words until Dreadmund waved their weapons down; they did not trust the elf-slaves, and so always awaited Dreadmund's decision in regards to the elf-slaves' translations.
The Sea Elf saw Dreadmund's motion and met his eyes, identifying him as leader. He made noises again, and the elf-slaves made noises in turn. "I am the King Orgnum of the Maormer. Who are you, leader of the foreign fleet?"
"I'm the Dreaded Bomundl, Captain of the longboat Snow Whale which flies through the seas and brings the snowy joy throughout the world, and leader of the great Atmoran fleet that you met in battle. Pyandonea is mine, now."
The elf-slaves made noises in turn again and when the Sea Elf translator finished speaking, King Orgnum smiled and made noises again. He continued making the noises, and the Sea Elf translator did not begin translating. Dreadmund frowned and glanced at the Snow Elf.
"What's he saying? Why aren't you three translating?"
The Snow Elf stared at him, confused. "He's laughing."
Dreadmund growled and drew his sword. "See this blade? It's called the Ice Blade of the Monarch. It was made to kill a king. The specific king is dead now, and not by this blade. But you'll make a good alternative, so the Ice Blade can still fulfill its purpose."
When the words, thrice translated, reached Orgnum's ears, the King's smile turned into a grimace. His thrice translated response was, "You would like to fight? I was hoping to persuade you to leave, but I accept, only on the terms that we fight as tradition dictates: we shall fight on the shore, knee-deep in the sea. Do you accept my terms?"
Dreadmund nodded.