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The ship gave a sudden jolt, but Luke easily kept his balance, his feet, as if nothing had happened. That same smile also stayed plastered on his face.
"Stopping, are we?" He said, almost mockingly to Alyxandria. "...So kind of you to warn us." The youth smiled at her, then brushed some fiery hair from his icy eyes. Then he turned to Ryoto, grinning cheerily. "Aw, c'mon, Ryoto. You're not afraid, are you? If anything bad happens you know I'm around to bash some heads together."
An image flashed in his mind, and Luke's smile didn't move.

The young man watched the pixie from the room she was in, and then, as Ryoto opened it, a somewhat faint pink glow came forth from the room.
I still can't believe it. Luke thought in awe. A real live pixie. Amazing!
He smiled even more as he stared after the little creature with interest. Finally, he turned away from it, and faced Alyxandria Saal, his Master Ryoto at his side.

"You're not gonna let a little dark put you off, are you, Master?" Luke asked, as if teasing. He was indeed right, in saying that the darkness had eyes. But Luke didn't believe they could not handle it. He believed that together, as a whole, as one, they'd stand up to anything...

...Anything at all.

((Just a quick little post cuz I was bored))

Ryoto looked over at Luke who seemed to be in one of his cocky moods. At one time he would have been bothered by him saying such things; he had believed that when one became too sure of themselves, they would become overconfident and then quite clumsy during battles. Not only that, he did not like hearing words from a child, especially since he was many years his junior. However, hearing such things now brought a smile to his face. Not only that, but what he was saying was most likely true. Even though it had not been proven in battle, he knew that one day Luke would save his life. Not only more than once, but most likely many times in the near future. He was quite sure of it. He had seen him fight in many battles and knew what he was capable of. However, sometimes he allowed some things to get to his head. But, it never affected him negatively. In fact, it made him more powerful.

Sighing, the knight brought his attention back to the captain; he was quite curious why they had stopped in the middle of the ocean and wanted to know as soon as possible. But there must have been a reason, especially since she had done so. But before she had time to answer (if she was even going to answer them at all), a sound of a bird could be heard from above. Startled, the knight looked up to see Anima, zooming down from above towards him. And right behind her was what had created the noise; the bird was in hot pursuit of the creature. Just as he had unsheathed his sword, the pixie had dived under his chin, which he soon shielded with his free hand so the bird could not get to her. Then, with one swing of his sword, the bird fell to the ground in two pieces.

With his left hand still gripping the sword, the knight slowly moved his right hand so that it lay beneath the pixie so she could stand on it, much like a platform. "Everything is fine now. You are safe."

Anima rested upon his hand, breathing deeply. She easily jumped from his hand to his shoulder, leaning against Ryoto's neck. She kept close to the human, loving the heat his neck created. Being so small, her body heat was weak, barely able to keep her too warm. She soon fell asleep on his shoulder, her wings resting low behind her as her glow completely disapated.

Luke looked up as he saw something like a hand snapping the mast in half.
...Well, damn, that's not good. Luke thought agitatedly as he made an orb of thick ice around him, to help shield the splintering wood. Once the worst of it was over, Luke simple absorbed the makeshift shield into his own body and grinned.

Looked like it was time to kick something's a**. So, with that silly grin of his, Luke drew Flamberge, and held it at the ready. Ready for anything. The heat emanating from the blade made the swordsman smile, as he looked up with those handsome blue eyes, searching for his foe.
See with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Calm as still water. Silent as a shadow.
Lessons that Ryoto taught him rang through his mind, his training all came into effect. This was real. This wasn't training.

This was a real battle. Lives were at stake. His, Ryoto's, the pixie's... Alyxandria's. Their captain had to remain alive, even if the mast was broken. A ship was what they needed; a ship was what they had; a ship was what they'd keep.

Determined to keep his posture, Luke's face remained calm as his eyes searched for a foe who was hard to spot. It was already dark enough, yet still, the enemy itself appeared black.
Then he saw it -- a sort of black mass, large, but never keeping the same shape or size. The form of a hand that it took to break the mast was no more; instead, there was just this... This God-knows-what.

But now it took the shape of a black sword; a misty aura surrounded it, all foul and black, all treacherous. Shields appeared around it, numerous black shields, and miniature swords as well. Luke grimaced now. His cool was lost, but his ice would handle that; either way, his fighting would not be hindered.

The youth rushed the odd substance, the Darkness, and flung his blade in a wide arc, making the air hot with the sword. A black shield instantly dissipated into the air, but Luke did not stop there. He shot off a large shard of ice, through another shield, and blocked an incoming slash from one of the small swords. But there were too many; too many for one man.

A blade of pure Darkness flew to Luke's back, and made a prominent slash down the middle of it.

Anima had flown off Ryoto's shoulder once the mist had transformed. She hid in the cabin she was in before, watching the scene from the window. The pixie soon looked about the room, trying to look for something to help her and try to save her new friends. She looked up to the rocking lamp before looking about the floor. She quickly pulled off two thin strips of wood and looked up to the fire.

Anima lit the ends of the sticks, and with Ein's help, she made her way out to the chaos. She watched as a few swords turned to her before flying to her. She gave out a small scream before quickly flying past them, up to the main sword. She flew over the shields, jabbing the burning ends of the sticks into the dark aura. She quickly flew back, hearing a defining noise escape the blade.

Anima quickly flew back, only to have her wing niched by a sword. She froze, falling to the deck, creating a small thud. The glow of her wings shift, becoming a deeper pink to red glow, a sign to pixies nearby for help.

Name: Starker Verstand
Age: 36
Race: Dwarf
Slave or Fugitive: Fugitive
Position In Regard to Race: Fugitive Seer
Items/Weapons None
Magic/Spells: Starker Verstand is a very mental dwarf. He thinks a lot more than other dwarves do, and thinks very quickly and efficiently in relation to other dwarves. He is also a freak among dwarves, in that he is telepathic and telekinetic, and those are his only modes of offense or defense.
History: When most children are born, they come out crying. Not so with Starker. When Starker was born, he calmly looked around the room, looked at the doctor, and then looked at his parents. Not a tear was shed, not a single howl, but aside from that, he was a healthy baby boy. As he grew up, he stayed somewhat withdrawn and not as given to physical activity as other dwarves were. He would stay off to the side of the arena or the mine or wherever he was, and he would watch. He tended to stay in his "house" (Dwarves only were ever given a specific part of a cave or hall, and so did not have habitation as surface dwellers knew it), reading and thinking and doing a bunch of other unDwarven activities. As his knowledge grew, his powers became apparent. His parents would find him preparing dinner or doing chores just as they were going to approach him to ask him to do them. He began to play catch with his friends, but the ball would never touch his hands. It would approach him, and he would put out his hands, but if you looked closely, the ball would stop a quarter centimeter away from actual physical contact. It would move with his hands, and he would make the motion to throw it, but principles of inertia and other things like that weren't upheld as much when he was around. After a while, whenever his parents got angry with him, they would suddenly find themselves in a state of peace, with something on their minds that they just couldn't put their fingers on. All they knew was that it had something to do with Starker. And then he began to have dreams. Nightmares. He would wake screaming in the night, jabbering some nonsense in Dwarven about Warlock something-or-other. A few weeks of this passed, and he approached the King of the Mountain. He told him who he was, and what he had seen in his dreams, but the King, who was then almost completely consumed by the darkness, took no heed of his warnings. Three times Starker visited him, and on the third visit, the King was completely under the thumb of the shadow. He had his guards grab Starker, who did not resist them, as he had dreamt that this would happen, and take him into the prison. A few hours later, the King had his most brutal, sadistic guard take out Starker's eyes and tongue, saying that, with so many visions of the way things were and would be, he had very little use for them. Then he banished Starker from the mountain with only the clothes on his back and a farewell from his parents, who were loyal to their King. Starker paused at the exit of the mountain and tore a strip from one of his sleeves, tying it around his empty sockets so that he would not disturb to excess anyone who he met. He did this without difficulty, the pain of the torture that he had suffered through sharpening his mental powers to the extent of a second sight unhindered by light, a strength unhindered by reach or grip, and an ability to read and change minds without them sensing him. With no home now and nothing but his name (which, in German/Dwarven (take your pick), means "Strong Mind"), Starker decided to set out and find someone who would listen to him, hear his message of warning. And as he walked his new road, he searched out with his mind, and found .... Ryoto. He was, just now, an adolescent dwarf, barely 36.
Appearance: However gifted he may be mentally, he is sorely lacking in the physical sense. Not even reaching the one meter tall mark (about three feet), he is short even for a dwarf. He is also a near albino, with snowy hair and skin. His stature is far from robust; in fact, the better word would be sickly. He carries a walking stick to hold himself up on, and his clothes, while not common, are not luxurious either. The sleeve of his left arm is shorter than that of his right arm, with the missing bit wrapped around his eyes. Instead of heavy-duty boots favored by his underground kinsmen, Starker wears sandals. While his bone structure is definitely Dwarven, he lacks much of the raw muscle that they are famous for. As he is so young (for a Dwarf), his beard is short, and he lets it grow as it would. However, in spite of all this, he carries with him a confident air, lent to him by his extraordinary mind.

(Been getting my name wrong, Kerribear. It's Luke here -- not Lance. XD)

Luke sat on the deck of the ship, kneeling on one knee, his hot blade at his side. He felt blood on his back, but he'd have to take care of it later. There was trouble right now. Big trouble.
The youth climbed to his feet as best he could, wobbling at first, but he soon gained steadyness. He began a quick run towards the edge where Ryoto stood, making a quick slide under the fallen mast, before jumping to his feet again and running, Flamberge in his left hand, a trail of blood left behind.
"Ryoto!" Luke called, joining his master at the ship's edge. "Alyxandria -- she's... distracting... it?" He gasped for breath, not because he was tired, but because the gash in his back was simply sapping his energy.
Luke shook his head somewhat painfully, speaking once more: "The fire... Good idea." He smiled, sheathing his sword. Things should hopefully be all right now. Hopefully.

But the slice in his back was painful. Luke would be all right, but out of anger towards the Darkness, he raised his right hand, palm facing the mist, then fired off a long barrage of icy projectiles, sharp, and rigid. This, unlike the flaming bolts, shot right through the mist.

Either they hit nothing, or they tore through it.

Starker watched from the bushes. Or, rather , he would have watched if he still had eyes, but we'll continue to use the word "watch" because "took in information about his surroundings using his mental powers" takes too long. He had been watching them for quite some time now, wondering why he had found Ryoto in his search and who these other characters were. One was Luke, another Alyxandria, and there was a pixie who had even less verbal capacity than Glod, but who thought of herself in terms of Anima. There was a dog, and a dormant man, Tilliad. For better or for worse, that seemed to be it, until the dark mist appeard. From the moment that Ryoto had gotten on the ship, Starker had been poking around in his mind, searching for what he knew on the subject of the invading darkness. He seemed to know just as much as Starker on the subject. He had certainly done his research.

When the dark mist appeared, Starker was surprised. He wasn't expecting the Warlock to catch onto them so soon. He put a mental shield around himself, guarding against the off chance that the mist would see him. However, they seemed to be fighting well as a team, and Starker decided he could use the time to find out more about them. The woman, Alyxandria, seemed a mystery to him. Certainly, it was only logical to want to save your loved ones, but he had no idea why she appeared to simply drop all of her plans to help out Ryoto. His quest was noble, but hers was just as important as Ryoto's quest to her.

They all seemed to fight well together, but the Ryoto's surprise at the mist showed itself glaringly when he poured oil onto the water and set it ablaze. He obviously had never taken chemistry classes. For that matter, neither had Starker, but he could see with his mind's eye that the oil was going to set the boat aflame long before it would deal with the enemy for which it was dumped. Still silently, Starker pushed the oil away from the boat in time for the flames to not reach it. Though his error would have been great if it were not caught, now it could be safely ignored.

Starker nodded to himself. Aside from the one mistake caused by rush, surprise, and concern, Ryoto seemed a good leader. Starker found himself thinking that Ryoto's quest would probably succeed. He hadn't had any dreams on the matter, but as a judge of character and ability, the team had the right instincts, the right meshing (aside from Luke's proposed meshing with Alyxandria). And this was at the beginning of the quest. Ryoto had only recruited two people, three if you counted his apprentice. The prospects of more people seemed agreeable to Starker, increasing their odds of success. Provided, of course, that they didn't do anything stupid. If they didn't bang on a fortress's main gate and demand entrance or anything brutishly heroic, they stood a good chance. Starker mused that it would be guerrilla tactics that would be most effective against any enemies that they would fight. Being loud and logical when in front of allies would probably win them the most support (depending on who they approached), but stealth and strength would definitely be the most effective when they lead the assault on the Warlock himself.

Done musing, Starker stood up from his cover in the bushes as the mist perished in the flames. He hadn't been following them on foot since the beginning, he had just been following them with his mind. A much better solution, when you have a walking stick. He's actually been waiting for them in that bush for a week, sustaining himself with a bag of food and blankets while he waited. The week before, he had dreamt that they would set anchor around here, and so he arrived, and waited. Through careful planning, his food had just run out.

Now standing at a little less than his full height (he had to slouch a little to use his walking stick), Starker walked to the edge of the water. He must have been quite a sight, white skin, clothes and beard against the dark background. He concentrated, and powerful upcurrents surged through the water. He took a step, testing to see if the upcurrent was strong enough to support him. It was. He took another step, and another, and another, walking on the surface of the water towards the boat. As he approached the fire, he held out his non-walking-stick hand, and the oil on the water parted in front of him, giving him a little circle of peaceful water in this inferno of flame. And still the upcurrents floated him, only the soles of his feet getting wet. He walked to the boat, and paused. He wasn't, even with all of his forethought, sure if he were welcome. He walked a little bit away from the boat, and sent a mental message to Ryoto and Alyxandria.

Greetings, Ryoto and Alyxandria. This may not be the best of times to introduce myself, but if I postpone it any more, I may not again be offered the chance. I am a seer among Dwarves, driven from his home and family by the forces which you seek to quell. I know much of your plight, of your quest, of you. I believe that I may help you in your endeavors. My name is Starker Verstand, and I would like to offer you my services. May I join you? To Ryoto he said I specifically know of you, Ryoto of the Humans. To Alyxandria he said May I board your boat? To both, he added You need not vocalize your response. If you but think, I shall know the answer.