No time to think, no room to breathe; waters churned white not through the violence of weather, but out of the efforts of what lurked within. Ita shouted a string of curses, rushing toward the side of her fleet's flagship only to watch helplessly as a massive tidal wave splashed onto the deck. The wood flooring turned slick, but the new obstacle barely hindered the already struggling crew of raiders.

"Who the hell tipped them off?!" Ita bellowed into the chaos, groping for the nearest surface to cling to for dear life moments before the massive craft lurched violently back and forth. Nearby, a primal screech filled the air; the three heads of a sea hydra rose from the water only to be instantly assailed from all directions by aerial blurs.

The fallen Vala automatially sprang to life, straightening upon armored legs and hefting her axe into view. She stood patient, towering and ready, visage more akin to her immortal identity than the weakened, sick lupine of the preceding months. Her pelt, dyed the same crimson-red it once possessed in godhood, stood in complement to the blackness of armor plates and the sheen of the crown on her head as caught by the midday sun.

Her flagship gave another groan, swaying uneasily but maintaining its general direction. The beach was tantalizingly close, but Ita knew that the small water naga village of Gampesgar was almost directly beneath the surface of their current position. She just needed to get her soldiers there intact to take their rightfully earned prize.

"Sharks!" A crewmember glancing over the side of the craft shouted out, pointing down towards the water and the distinctly fishlike silhouettes that swarmed within. Ita groaned, moving over to see the problem for herself. Indeed, their form was in plain view from the surface, accented by flowing runes of various colors covering wherever the presence of organic matter was. The fallen Vala had grown used to the symbols, as they now were present in nearly all objects in her perception; she had accepted them as reality long ago.

Snorting, Ita held Mashaka to the air and forced it to change shape. The weapon quickly deteriorated into a gooey consistency, dripping about itself and reforming into an entirely new shape. The spear now held in her hands was longer than Ita was tall, still covered with the same swirling red and blue chaos contained in its form as a battle axe. The lupine steadied herself, weapon point facing down toward the lurking hunters, ready for the inevitable.

The other members of Ita's small fleet of stolen pirate ships were much too busy with their own individual attacks to aid their own flagship. Halrakka, Ita's son and the most recent addition to the commanders of her raiders, was engaged in an aerial duel to the death with a blue dragon, the only one of its kind on the battlefield currently. The pair careened over the ships, spiraling in an arc with swords and talons locked and with no visible progress being made. The whereabouts of Warmaster Charlotte could not be properly gauged by Ita's own glances toward the applicable ship, but her crew of various soldiers and spawns of chaos (especially wargs) were actively dealing with assaults from small groups of sea hydras, as well as beams of water and ice spells shot from beneath the ocean's surface.

While the sharks in question did not appear to move aggressively, a new silhouette had since materialized, much longer and thinner than an average shark as it shot through the waves in the direction of the ship. Within seconds, the gaping jaws of a sea serpent were fully apparent. Ita's lightning reflexes pulled her into immediate action. Fractions of a second were all she needed to drive Mashaka's spear tip into the roof of its mouth, piercing the braincase cleanly. While the beast's body fell limp, an unseen obstacle had presented itself; the sea serpent had a rider.

A naiad, it seemed (based on its angry frilling of the gills on his neck), leaped off his deceased ally and onto the deck, dual scimitars ripped from their sheathes. Ita tore her weapon out of the serpent, allowing it to slip back over the side, moving to engage the new arrival. The Chaos Axe returned to its normal form while raiders of her crew charged the soldier, armor insignias revealing him to be a city guardsman of the very area under assault by the raiders.

Considering the small size of the village of Gampesgar, there was certainly a larger resistance force than Ita had predicted. Somehow they must have learned of the attack long beforehand, allowing them to call for support from neighboring cities or even nearby travelers capable of taking up arms.

Really, it shouldn't have been this way. Ita was only catering to their best interests; with less soldiers would be less inevitable casualties, and in turn less of a barrier for Ita to simply enter the city and take what she wanted. Besides, floating corpses and other decaying matter would make their precious water hell to live in for a while yet. Why couldn't everyone simply act like good little victims, dropping dead while they still had their honor?

[OOC: Whoo, third raid. Remember, this topic is open to Ita followers, Ita's raiders, and opposers that have allied with the forces of Gampesgar to drive back the raiders. I would like to encourage both PvP and PvE action here, with stress on the former, as it'll hopefully spice things up substantially. Also note that I will post less in this raid than others, usually only to move along main events (like saying a ship has sunk, ships have hit land, etc.). Have fun, and happy raiding!]

The weather seemed to match the mood of the happiest of sprites: bright, clear, and sunny. Only a few wisps of high stratus clouds were stroked over the azure skies -- a bit of white paint whisked over a blue canvas with a dry brush. Cerulean waves in the distance continued to rock back and forth, the crests of blue rising up and down continuously. In the distance, a small armada could be seen, their white sails mingled with red banners flapping luxuriously in the wind.

However, the entire scene seemed to be a vastly deranged paradox. In reality, the armada of warships had already begun their onslaught as blasts of magical projectiles fired across the waves, steam hissing from where each was hit causing the battlefield to smoke and boil. The cerulean waves that had been seen afar had long become whitewashed with the churning of aquatic armies, spears of ice plunging into the hull of the warships. Every assortment of marine monster had been summoned, causing the warships to take on heavy damage as raiders were thrown into the cruel arms of Davy Jones.

Upon the flagship of Warmaster Charlotte, raiders and supporters of Ita already lay soaked in blood. Columns of water sprouts surrounded the ship causing salt water to forever rain down upon the wooden deck. However, despite the downpour, a more subtle use had already been employed as Water Naga from Gampesgar's forces began to board the ship. Each serpentine warrior seemed armored to the teeth, tridents bared against the raiders as Ita's rage carried throughout the battlefield, her cries of frustration evident to all.

Upon the Warmaster's vessel, Pandora Skullshredder could be seen, her Blade of Vengeance raining down its cruel judgement upon the unsuspecting Naga. Mithril instantly cleaved through the unprotected limb of a naga, causing the arm to fall still holding the trident. With a screech, the water naga collapsed, crimson liquid gushing out. However, Pandora's short victory was in vain as a mace came into contact with her torso. Swirling around, Pandora cried out in pain, only her armor of bloodshed preventing the sharp spikes from puncturing her back and potentially crippling her. Grabbing the mace's body with her freehand, Pandora roared in agony of the blunt force as a stream of crimson lightning jumped from her armor onto the saltwater soaked body of the enemy. Instantly, the crimson rage began to electrocute the naga. Taking advantage of the stunned serpent, Pandora sent her bronze dagger through the eye of the stunned naga, his body suddenly going limp.

Everywhere, bloodshed occurred as Ita's forces increasingly began to become overwhelmed. Cries of agony and pain however were directed towards Pandora's ears as she saw a humanoid shape cut through Ita's forces. Growling with rage, Pandora began to charge towards the figure, her blade already gleaming in anticipation of the bloodshed to follow.

((Any of the Naga allies can answer to this post. Looking for a one-on-one battle.))

Another peaceful start to a less than peaceful day. The armada of warships commandeered by the raiders churned through sea water. Wind pushed against the sails of the mighty vessels, causing the cloth traps to bulge and billow as they harnessed power. Tithdaeron was uncomfortable. Water was not his greatest freind by any stretch of the imagination. Although it did not present any immediate danger to him, he had no spells that worked to effect on the life-sustaining fluid. Annoyed and mulling over possible plans of action, the creature stepped out from belowdecks and meandered over to port side.

Not far off could be seen Charlotte's ship, keeping pace with Ita's own. Tithdaeron smiled. His creator had not asked him to accompany the wretched woman. This fact lifted his spirits, and the chaos elemental spat overboard and cursed her.

Watching the sea water closely, it seemed to stir unnaturally. The normal wake caused by the bow of the wooden vessel was deformed, being cast this way and that. Water rippled chaotically around bubbles that rose from the cold depths. Tithdaeron raised an eyebrow, and at that moment a white streak sped past his face.

The surprised creature jumped back quickly, and observed as the offending projectile landed on deck and shattered. An ice spear?

They were under attack! This wasn't supposed to happen!
All the better.

Tithdaeron whirled around to see if Ita was on deck, and saw her equal amount of surprise. Shuddering and trembling, the warship was sustaining several hard blows to its hull. "Who the hell tipped them off?!" shouted the enraged lupine.

"Who indeed..." muttered the chaos elemental in reply. His words went unheard in the confusion, and the creature cast another glance to their sister ship. It had already been boarded, and the crew was not faring well. One valiant warrior, who seemed familiar, was doing a good job of giving them hell.

A webbed hand appeared over the side of the ship, and heralded it's presence with a wet smack as it gripped the wood. Tithdaeron drew his scimitar and swung hard onto it, cleaving the member from its owner. A shout of pain and surprise was heard, followed shortly by a splash.

Tithdaeron laughed, but was interrupted as several pairs of hands gripped the railing. The crazed predator smiled wildly. It was like playing a childs game!
A light click noise accompanied the unsheathing of his katar, and Tithdaeron was open for business. "I invite you to your death, dear freinds! Come, who wants to be first to have his guts ripped out?"

The encouraging remark made the chaos elemental a target. Exactly what he wanted. A water naga hefted itself over the railing, but was quickly stabbed in the chest by a blood stained katar. It released it's grip on the now somewhat bloody wooden railing, and plummeted to the sea surface.

Two others had managed to board the ship on the port side, while the sounds of others clambering up the side could be heard. One attempted to heave an ice spear into Tithdaeron's gut, but the wily creature quickly turned sideways and only recieved a glancing blow. The naga was now off balance. Tithdaeron swung hard at the spear with his scimitar. Ice scattered across the deck as it was shattered and the naga stumbled forward.

Fright now in his mind, the naga lost his gaurd. Tithdaeron sidestepped to the stunned creature and reached his right arm around the girth of the amphibian like attacker. His left hand brought a katar into its gut, which was promptly jerked up to the ribcage and then pulled out. The naga's cuts spilled out, and it fell over in a heap as it tried to gather them back into itself whilst losing blood fast.

While this interchange had taken place, the other naga waited for a good moment to strike. Finding it, the attacker leaped forward and thrusted its ice spear into Tithdaeron. He missed his mark in haste, but succesfully had created an entrance and exit wound on the chaos elemental's left shoulder...

A whistle sounded throughout the assailed town. Militia formed from the peasantry did their best to equip themselves, but it seemed hopeless. An armada of warships sat just off the coast, engaged in a bloody melee with the first line defenders of the town - mostly Naiad's and Water Naga. They had made little progress in the effort to overrun the ships by boarding, and it shown by the bodies floating in the water around the ships - most of them with a blue tint to hint at their lineage. That was, of course, until the sharks came around, gorging themselves on the dead flesh. It was surely enough to weaken even the strongest of stomachs.

It was likely a suicide mission. As most of the militia stayed behind to try and fend off any raiders coming to shore, a few of the town guard conscripted travellers willing to fight - and with some experience - to stage a boarding of one of the ships.

There were twenty aboard this rowboat. Sareus was one of them - dressed in his normal wear, only a suit of padded leather armor standing to defend him against the wickedly sharp edges of the raiders blades. His trust was not strong in his armor at that time. He wrenched his hand around the hilt of his longsword a few times, before glancing around - atleast he wasn't as nervous as some of the others. One man stood near the edge, vomiting off of the side. He looked no older than seventeen, and wielded a ruddy spear. Atleast he had a suit of rusted chain over him. The others were mixed. Some looked to be mercenaries, while others were garbed in the blue and white of the town guard - not much more equipped than the militia left on shore. A few other boats had been assembled, and a small line of them rocked gently towards the massive warships in the distance.

It was surreal. As the boats drifted away from the shoreline, and the shouts of alarm and whistles to raise the militia faded, the men occupying the boats slipped into a moment of silence - the waves rocking against the side of the boats being the only sound heard. Gradually, in the distance, the sounds of war began to rage up. Shouts for help, cries of pain, and screams of terror reverberated across the blue horizon. It was a shock for many. Sareus shifted, uncomfortable. As his boat neared one of the warships starboard sides, the call was raised by the captain - a guardsman of some caliber, to scale the nets draped over the side of the boat. A battle already raged aboard, and the first thing that many of the men met were spears to the face, throat, and chest - as raiders prepared for the boarding stood nearby. As Sareus' line drew up, though, a Water Naga lunged, driving an ice spear through the raiders' throat, and sending a spray of blood out onto the deck, securing passage for the defenders, as a flood of them rushed the deck, throwing themselves into the melee.

A masked man rushed Sareus' as he gathered himself on the deck. A heavy broadsword was raised high, and rushed down to meet the young man's head. He lifted his longsword in time, though, guiding the blade off to the side. Stumbling back a little, he regripped his weapons hilt, eyeing the man as he recovered his balance. He hadn't taken the opportunity to attack - not having his own bearings to do so. He readied himself again, the raider swinging a swift horizontal strike towards his generally unprotected midsection. Meeting the blade again, this time Sareus took the advantage, shoving the weapon aside and closing the distance - enough to swing his arm up. The hilt of his weapon struck into the raiders nose, sending him sprawling back - bloody. The pain seemed heavy as the man resettled himself, before striking again. The broadsword's strike was much less controlled this time, and was knocked aside with a swift slash from Sareus' own blade.

Rushing forward again, he slid his foot on the inside of the raiders left foot, and flicked it back. Losing his balance, the raider began to fall backwards, hitting the deck of the ship with a simple thump. It wasn't long - certainly not long enough for the raider to recover - before the longsword in Sareus' hands drove through his chest, breaking the studded leather through and through, and finishing the man off, a steady pool of blood forming underneath his now lifeless body. As he ripped the weapon out, a few heaving breaths shot out of Sareus' mouth, and his eyes shifted to the area surrounding him.