"Vale, you keep a hold on her!" He shouted, as he saw Penelope stumble. It was a tall order, given that Vale already had one foot in the grave herself, but the woman managed a nod, and she threaded her arm around Penelope's side, and the two stumbled forward together.
Vol kicked barrels out of his way, into the paths of incoming men. He made use of the ropes that coiled under foot, long forgotten, to see his enemies tripped as they sought to dodge the path of his hammer.
He was removing obstacles at an impossible rate, and he'd already made it halfway down the jetty… But the whistle of arrows taking to the air soon set his heart towards stillness.
They were a terrible thing. A huge cloud of fire, like the judgement of the Gods. There were hundreds of those arrows, if not a thousand. They'd been waiting there, for that exclusive purpose of seeing the ship burned, if it ever – against all odds – came to that.
