Jerijah had done his own share of throat slitting. A few desperate souls tried to swim away from the wreckage and their life-saving pieces of flotsam, but their injuries only enabled him to easily catch up with and dispatch them. He was pushing floating supplies towards Hawkeye's net. Anything floating was worth its weight to sell. When the fishing net would fill with crates, Hawkeye would pull them up and Xionn would help guide the crane to put the cargo in the hold, where Alejandra and Lafoot were taking inventory.
One of the bodies clinging to floatsam began to wail for help. "Oi, shut 'im up Jerijah, s'gratin' me nerves," Xionn called down to him below. He scanned the wreckage for the source of the wailing, and saw a blood elf clinging to a floating piece of mast. "No... bring 'im up on deck. I'll deal with him proper up 'ere." Jerijah looked a little displeased to be expending energy to bring someone on board, but he didn't argue, helping bring the blood elf over into the large fishing net. Skulley watched for a moment, bobbing just above the surface, then swam over to help load the man into the net. He was favoring a broken arm, and he screamed when she touched it pushing him up onto a crate.
One of the bodies clinging to floatsam began to wail for help. "Oi, shut 'im up Jerijah, s'gratin' me nerves," Xionn called down to him below. He scanned the wreckage for the source of the wailing, and saw a blood elf clinging to a floating piece of mast. "No... bring 'im up on deck. I'll deal with him proper up 'ere." Jerijah looked a little displeased to be expending energy to bring someone on board, but he didn't argue, helping bring the blood elf over into the large fishing net. Skulley watched for a moment, bobbing just above the surface, then swam over to help load the man into the net. He was favoring a broken arm, and he screamed when she touched it pushing him up onto a crate.
"You bitch!" He spoke in orcish, but his meaning was plenty clear as he let loose a stream of expletives, berating the masked woman for her carelessness. Skulley simply stared at him as Hawkeye cranked the net up out of the water with them in it.
They pulled the blood elf on board, along with the few crates they'd also put in the net. Xionn paced over to the net, stopping right in front of the coughing blood elf who was clutching his sides. Arioch and Jerijah, who had both pulled themselves temporarily out of the water each grabbed an arm and hefted the blood elf up. "Sounds like the Captain has a bit of a speech for you. Damn fel elf." He spit in the blood elf's face.
Xionn sized the blood elf up, then began speaking in Darnassian. "Are you awake enough to hear me, fel elf?" Darnassian and Thalassian come from the same roots, and much of the two languages are still the same. There are some nuances that developed from the separation of cultures, but the roots of words and at least some phrases between the two are understandable. Meanwhile, Skulley hauled herself onboard and took the opportunity to produce a miraculously dry cigarette out of thin air and light it, the smoke dulling most of the remaining fishy elixir taste. She smoked quickly, pulling inches' worth of the smoldering tobacco into her lungs as she watched the wet and gasping elf attempt to square off with her boss. Arioch and Jerijah held the other elf while Xionn spoke.
"You see, we used to spare unfortunate sailors of attacked ships that we were salvaging. Sometimes we'd even feel bad for the poor souls and give them help." Xionn pulled a fresh cigarette out, lighting it and blowing a wisp of smoke into the gentle breeze. The other elf's face was crossed with a mixture of hope, fear, and loathing. "But the Horde and Alliance, being locked in their eternal all important struggle against each other, felt the need to implement laws about -their- goods being vultured. Most of the laws they implemented never worked. The floatsam law for instance, nothing above the waves in controlled seas were fair game." He laughed, it was a cruel laugh. "But there were so many loopholes in that law, looked like alterac swiss. It didn't help them keep much of their goods at all. Then they came up with this brilliant new law to try and trip up the cartel. You see, for a law to go through about the high seas, whatever faction is trying to pass the law must run it by the cartel. You following me so far fel-for-brains?"
The blood elf scowled. "Are you going to let me go or not?"
Xionn ignored his question. "Now naturally, the Cartel is going to look out for its own, but it's going to want to keep everyone happy for profit. Of course the Cartel isn't going to allow any laws that prohibit vulturing to pass. We keep the seas clean and free of pollution after all! But the Horde and Alliance, they do try. The latest silly law is that all floatsam from wreckage belongs to survivors of the crew, so the Horde can extort those belongings from them after they've recovered the survivors." Xionn turned around, his hands clasped behind his back.
Xionn sized the blood elf up, then began speaking in Darnassian. "Are you awake enough to hear me, fel elf?" Darnassian and Thalassian come from the same roots, and much of the two languages are still the same. There are some nuances that developed from the separation of cultures, but the roots of words and at least some phrases between the two are understandable. Meanwhile, Skulley hauled herself onboard and took the opportunity to produce a miraculously dry cigarette out of thin air and light it, the smoke dulling most of the remaining fishy elixir taste. She smoked quickly, pulling inches' worth of the smoldering tobacco into her lungs as she watched the wet and gasping elf attempt to square off with her boss. Arioch and Jerijah held the other elf while Xionn spoke.
"You see, we used to spare unfortunate sailors of attacked ships that we were salvaging. Sometimes we'd even feel bad for the poor souls and give them help." Xionn pulled a fresh cigarette out, lighting it and blowing a wisp of smoke into the gentle breeze. The other elf's face was crossed with a mixture of hope, fear, and loathing. "But the Horde and Alliance, being locked in their eternal all important struggle against each other, felt the need to implement laws about -their- goods being vultured. Most of the laws they implemented never worked. The floatsam law for instance, nothing above the waves in controlled seas were fair game." He laughed, it was a cruel laugh. "But there were so many loopholes in that law, looked like alterac swiss. It didn't help them keep much of their goods at all. Then they came up with this brilliant new law to try and trip up the cartel. You see, for a law to go through about the high seas, whatever faction is trying to pass the law must run it by the cartel. You following me so far fel-for-brains?"
The blood elf scowled. "Are you going to let me go or not?"
Xionn ignored his question. "Now naturally, the Cartel is going to look out for its own, but it's going to want to keep everyone happy for profit. Of course the Cartel isn't going to allow any laws that prohibit vulturing to pass. We keep the seas clean and free of pollution after all! But the Horde and Alliance, they do try. The latest silly law is that all floatsam from wreckage belongs to survivors of the crew, so the Horde can extort those belongings from them after they've recovered the survivors." Xionn turned around, his hands clasped behind his back.
The rest of the crew looked on, all the veterans well aware of what was coming.
"I won't speak a word, just let me go," his voice cracked, possibly from injury, exhaustion or pleading fear. Perhaps all three.
"Well see lad, if'n I let ye go, th'Horde'll find ye, know what supply ship y'worked for, and come demandin' their booty. We kinna have that." He was speaking in common again, the blood elf completely oblivious to what he was saying. He went and picked up a very large, notched axe from its resting place against the ship's cabin.
"No please, anything you want..." The blood elf broke down into cries and sobs, jerking at the two captors holding his arms. Skulley quirked an eyebrow and tossed the remains of her cigarette overboard, crossing her arms over her chest and watching the captive shriek, her face emotionless.
"I won't speak a word, just let me go," his voice cracked, possibly from injury, exhaustion or pleading fear. Perhaps all three.
"Well see lad, if'n I let ye go, th'Horde'll find ye, know what supply ship y'worked for, and come demandin' their booty. We kinna have that." He was speaking in common again, the blood elf completely oblivious to what he was saying. He went and picked up a very large, notched axe from its resting place against the ship's cabin.
"No please, anything you want..." The blood elf broke down into cries and sobs, jerking at the two captors holding his arms. Skulley quirked an eyebrow and tossed the remains of her cigarette overboard, crossing her arms over her chest and watching the captive shriek, her face emotionless.
Xionn turned about in place, pointing the blade of the axe at the blood elf. "May Neptulon guide ye inta th' afterlife, saila." He brought the axe down, the point just barely skimming over the deck of the ship. He took several steps forward, like a batter getting a running start before taking a swing. Jerijah and Arioch both sidestepped, releasing the sailor just in time for Xionn's axe to swing up and sever his head from his shoulders. The head, by the sheer force of the blow, went flying over the edge of the ship, and the body slumped, partially falling in the direction of the axe's blow, blood spraying up onto the captain's clothes. There was a grim look of sadistic satisfaction on his face. He set the axe down, looking to the crew. "There are no survivors."
"Right." Skulley straightened up and pulled her mask up over her mouth and nose. It muffled her voice, but the meaning came through clear enough. "Remind me never t'piss ya off, boss." Then she took her hook back from Hawkeye and hopped over the side of the boat into the cool water below. There were plenty more crates left to look through.
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