Bloody Glory
[Another IC blip for Al’ishi, this time regarding what she’s experienced so far in her training! Stay tuned for violence! :D Writing done in very choppy manner to hopefully convey how Al’ishi was feeling during this time~]
Blood. That pungent iron-riddled taste hung heavy upon her tongue. She remembered sinking. She remembered the fight. The Saurok. Agony throbbed to her mind as she recalled every vivid detail.
Harpoons. That was their weapon of choice. Barbed. Perfect to rend and send someone to agonizing death. She remembered when they began to board the ship. How could she forget? One man was surrounded by three. He fought valiantly, but died soon after taking one with him. Blood had stained the ship. Everything was red. The biggest Saurok, the leader... had towered over her. That damned creature knocked the Amani unconscious. Unecessarily an enemy was the Amani. Before the fight had even became a thought, they’d exchanged words. She’d hit him in the face and stolen a dagger. But the blood. Men were impaled. She could see their eyes widen in horror as they saw the weapon go clear through their guts. She saw life leaving their eyes, any sign of light dimmed as crimson flooded the planks. Limbs were removed. Guts spilled out in ropes. Noise. Explosion. Darkness.
Yet now did it do her any good? Stealing the bone dagger had. It was what she had still clinging to her person as she was washed to shore. Yet it had exploded. The boat was gone. Everyone was dead. Yet here she was? The Amani had been knocked unconscious. He was surely dead. He had to be. Where was she? Sand. Island. The island? Blood. She could still taste it. Thusly she spat, letting a wad of crimson stain the sand. And then a foot. Foot? A nasty green foot prodded her shoulder. She began to look. She had no doubt it was the Amani, due to the stench lingering in the area. Surely enough, as she stood, she could hear his voice through the ringing of her ears.
Rocks. A mountain of rocks seemed to obscure the rest of the island. This was good -- wasn’t it? For the moment. The shore kept everything else in. She began to climb, dazed and weak. A crevice was in the rocks. She steadied her vision and peeked in. Skulls, each decorated with their own tribal design. Snow leopard. She snatched hers right up. There was a blade. Blade in the skull? “Fat ass! There’s one here! Take it!” She recalled his response, “Shadowtusk. They might be here.” “If they are,” she gruffed as she began to climb again, “they’re the least of our problems and they will not need these skulls any more.” “Survive.” That was all the confirmation she needed. They were on the island. And may the Loa have enough mercy that they might survive.
