Task Name: The Chase
Tier: 2
NPC or PC: NPC
Location: South blue, The Griffin(a borrowed civilian ship), Chum(A ship friendly to Edwin)
Crew, Team, or Personal:Personal
Description: After finally catching up with Edwin's ship, the wrathful Frost attempts to board the ship and seize the murderer.
Enemy Details: 5 Tier 2; Revolutionaries
Boss: not yet
Frost found herself staring at the ceiling, counting each and every board. It was the least she could do to keep her mind from ruminating on the actions of the day and the actions yet to come. It had all been adrenaline and fire just a few moments ago, but after Newfeld Senior had not so bluntly told her she would just be in the way up top she had decided to get some sleep. The hammock was quite comfortable, and the thick boards of the ship masked much of the clamor from above her, but that didn't help sleep approach any swifter. With no more adrenaline, the mind had begun to wander, began to consider what she had all done to get to this point.
She had killed another man. She had known it the second she had done it, that blow was designed to be fatal and it had achieved it's target with precision. The terrifying part of it though, was that she hadn't felt any which way about it. He had been nothing more than an obstacle between her and Edwin, and she had treated him as such. It was inconceivable. There was anger yes, but it hadn't even been directed at him, it was reserved solely for the murderer. This man that she had killed was not someone she felt much of anything towards, and now there was barely even regret. The cold and heartless logic of her mind had deemed him an obstacle and had removed it without a thought.
She forced her memory to dredge up the words the good captain had mentioned, how he had been angry each and every time he failed to save them. At the time she had professed a fear of killing people, and that had been because she did not want to end any more lives. Now however, laying in this hammock she realized, it wasn't for their sake that she didn't want to kill them, it was for hers. How few enemies it had taken to make her care little for human life, to make her callous and murderous.
She fished around in her pockets for a photograph and pulled it out, examining the faces on it.
The first, her father, the second looked very much like a reflection of her, but those blue eyes were filled with nothing but compassion. She returned the picture back to the pocket, unable to look at the faces any longer. She needed no mirror to know her eyes looked nothing like that picture. She grit her teeth. She couldn't save the lives already lost, but perhaps no-one else had to die, perhaps they could still be proud of her.
Tier: 2
NPC or PC: NPC
Location: South blue, The Griffin(a borrowed civilian ship), Chum(A ship friendly to Edwin)
Crew, Team, or Personal:Personal
Description: After finally catching up with Edwin's ship, the wrathful Frost attempts to board the ship and seize the murderer.
Enemy Details: 5 Tier 2; Revolutionaries
Boss: not yet
Frost found herself staring at the ceiling, counting each and every board. It was the least she could do to keep her mind from ruminating on the actions of the day and the actions yet to come. It had all been adrenaline and fire just a few moments ago, but after Newfeld Senior had not so bluntly told her she would just be in the way up top she had decided to get some sleep. The hammock was quite comfortable, and the thick boards of the ship masked much of the clamor from above her, but that didn't help sleep approach any swifter. With no more adrenaline, the mind had begun to wander, began to consider what she had all done to get to this point.
She had killed another man. She had known it the second she had done it, that blow was designed to be fatal and it had achieved it's target with precision. The terrifying part of it though, was that she hadn't felt any which way about it. He had been nothing more than an obstacle between her and Edwin, and she had treated him as such. It was inconceivable. There was anger yes, but it hadn't even been directed at him, it was reserved solely for the murderer. This man that she had killed was not someone she felt much of anything towards, and now there was barely even regret. The cold and heartless logic of her mind had deemed him an obstacle and had removed it without a thought.
She forced her memory to dredge up the words the good captain had mentioned, how he had been angry each and every time he failed to save them. At the time she had professed a fear of killing people, and that had been because she did not want to end any more lives. Now however, laying in this hammock she realized, it wasn't for their sake that she didn't want to kill them, it was for hers. How few enemies it had taken to make her care little for human life, to make her callous and murderous.
She fished around in her pockets for a photograph and pulled it out, examining the faces on it.
The first, her father, the second looked very much like a reflection of her, but those blue eyes were filled with nothing but compassion. She returned the picture back to the pocket, unable to look at the faces any longer. She needed no mirror to know her eyes looked nothing like that picture. She grit her teeth. She couldn't save the lives already lost, but perhaps no-one else had to die, perhaps they could still be proud of her.