Thorn steals a glance from over the rail. At this distance, he can finally see who it is standing at the bow of the incoming longship.
"Valates," Thorn calls out Kray, who is taking cover further forward towards the bow, behind a pile of bodies.
Breaking a burning arrow from the front of his shield, Kray nods to Thorn. It makes sense. The Iron Legions would love to kill a Mercon abroad. Ironic that Valetes probably has no idea Kray has separated from his House. It would not matter anyway though. The Korvaran would still love to claim the trophy of Kray’s head and Thorn’s hands either way. Kray raises his shield to block another late arrow diving in.
Maeriks throws the burning spare sail overboard. That should clear things up to move around a little. Won’t trip on that again. Plus, less fire on the boat, so that’s good.
Three arrows miss Maeriks by mere inches as the big man lumbers across the small deck with the burning sail in his arms. After sliding the sail into the river, Maeriks bends down to pick up his backpack and move it behind a strongbox. Another arrow sails harmlessly over the big Dannein’s head.
Bryn counts his blades while crouched behind the crates of grain. All set. Bow is in his hands. He’s in long range now, but the incoming troops are behind railing and shields raised. He should be able steal through the cover soon though, when it all breaks loose.
Sitting with his back to the main mast, Ivor spits to the side. It splats right in the open eye of the dead Heshbaan bleeding onto the deck at the starboard beam. Ivor tilts his head back and rests it against the mast. Relaxed.
After the next volley hits the deck, Ivor leans out from behind cover to gauge distance. The big longship is twice the size of their boat. It is gliding in fast, with a full slide from the rowers. There must be twenty of them.
Less than 100 meters now. Impact in 8 seconds.