“Ready when you are Cap’n!”, a crew member shouted. Lafitte appreciated the man’s eagerness, though not so much his brains in this instance: until the ship bottomed out, that is, straightened back up from their angular descent, their grapples would be unable to secure their position aboard the Spriggan vessel.
Lafitte took a long drag on the cigarette, and blew out the smoke, counting down in his head as he did so to the moment when he would go through the motions of attacking a seafaring vessel.
What he’d come up with was a sort of aggressive tether, as he thought of it. As his ship came down atop the enemy vessel, gale winds whipping at her sails, auras powering her into position, he began to spin his grappling hook faster in his hand. “Well, we better bloody well do it then, ain’t we, messieurs?” Lafitte yelled over his shoulder towards his loyal comrades, and with a shout of “Huzzah!”, they sent their hooks down towards the deck of the ship, majority hooking onto various parts of the decks and rigging first go.
Lafitte slid down the rope and onto the Spriggan, just as a salvo from the Daughter struck her side, his slightly warmed gloves going straight for his Machete and Tomahawk when he regained his balance, using the former to lock blade to weapon with the creatures, and the Tomahawk for cutting through the bony outcroppings upon the heads and faces of the goblins. One came towards him brandishing a Cutlass, and after dodging the first swipe, he connected with the bladed tool of the Machete. He then held this position for several moments, forcing the creature to engage him in a feat of strength, then, slowly, deliberately, he brought the edge of his axe down on the neck of the hapless thing.
Lafitte crushed a snake with his boot seemingly slithering from out of nowhere towards him, and after much in the way of hacking and dodging enchanted fires from his own salvos, as well as odd holes in the deck, he came across a particularly odd Goblin member of the crew standing towards the stern of the ship. The goblin seemed to be holding a card in his hands and staring intently at a black mirror about the size of a dinner plate near the helm, he seemed to be bleeding from the arm holding the card, though the blood wasn’t dripping to the ground.
As the hazy sun baked down on Lafitte, seemingly dumbstruck at this odd turn of events, he felt an arrow penetrate his duster. Though the coat was enchanted to keep the point from piercing his skin, it nonetheless caught fire per the spell enchanted upon the arrow. “Arrgh! Merde!“ Lafitte yelled as he quickly came to his senses and removed a thin athame tucked away in his boot. It too, with the proper rituals, could create flames when called upon. Lafitte, however, lacking the knowledge of such things, simply threw it like a throwing knife and smiled upon its connection into the eye socket of the attacking Spriggan. He then dislodged the arrow from his jacket and beat down the fire that erupted on his person.
At the sound of the goblin’s cry, the would-be wizard seemed to come out of his trance, blinking several times. He then let out a war cry towards Lafitte, brandishing an athame very similar to the one just thrown. Lafitte simply threw his tomahawk at the creature, its blade connecting with his skull, dropping him immediately to the deck. Though, as Lafitte removed his axe from its embedded position, there was no way really to tell whether the Goblin was dead or simply concussed, their skulls being hard as rocks. Lafitte didn’t stick around to find out, however, going immediately to the dropped card and retrieving it as the battle raged around him between his crew and the crew of the Spriggans…