Of all those on the crew of La Danse Calinda you could hardly describe Ionas as a fighter, he was tall and lithe, barely a pound of excess flesh on him yet even so he was far from being useless in a fight.
Thanks to his remarkable eyesight and his steady and accurate hands Ionas had the knack of being able to throw any object he was able to get his hands on exactly where he wanted it to go, in this case he had a small collection of throwing daggers weighted just perfectly so that they would achieve a stable trajectory. The only problem with throwing things at a location is ensuring that what you want to hit is there when the dagger arrives, not a problem for stationary targets but something that must be carefully applied to the more mobile targets such as Spriggans, or goblins as the captain calls them.
Ionas carefully scans the boat looking for any Spriggan that might just stay still long enough to become the target of his next attack. There a Spriggan was coming up behind one of the dwarves, ready to flank but a well-placed dagger in the back of it’s neck soon saw it crumple to the ground.
There were a few other Spriggans that were got, of those most suddenly found they had daggers firmly implanted in their chest, as they gasped for air or grabbed their stomach. The last one simply fell down some stairs as the dagger hit it in the shoulder. The best thing of it all was that Ionas was still safely on the Calinda and none of his targets could do anything as battle raged about them.
Ionas stood looking down among the rigging that acted not only as their crows nest but kept the ship firmly grasping it’s flotation device, his thrown daggers spent but it wouldn’t be long for Starhand and his crew to board and finally take out whatever remnants of Spriggan resistance there would be. Then and only then would he descend to make his way over to the pirate vessel and reclaim his daggers and perhaps see something that maybe others missed.