Rathiks sits upon his throne. He watches several displays, his chin on one of his fists. One of the flickering displays shows a smoke-filled corridor while the other is simply an audio interface. Drassk halts Kraxian and waits for the Elder Captain to finish speaking in the language of the Last City. Satisfied that his edicts will be followed, the Eliksni stands. He's had more than his fair share of ether. In short, while he might not be the size of an Archon, he's [i]big.[/i] He speaks to Drassk shortly before looking toward his...guest. "Wolf," he greets the Fallen. "How fares your House?"

"How do you think? The Humans have killed the rabid wolf, and hunt the rest....."

Rathiks lets the barb of his question sink in. When Kraxian answers, the Devil seems highly satisfied by his response. "Drassk tells me that you foresee the doom of our species at the hands of Oryx," he notes, "and that you fled from you fellow Eliksni to avoid sharing our fate as a race. I have little use for someone who abandons his people to die." Rathiks' eyes blaze within their helmet. "Convince me why I should not have your lesser arms cut from your body and then ransom you back to your House? Or, perhaps, to Variks and his Awoken pets?"

"Why? For I sheltered whoever fled with me....there was a crew there.....all dead from lack of ether.....I survived only because my ether never ran out....that may not last..."

"Kraxian," Rathiks begins darkly, "you mistake me. I care little for the charity you provided for your fellow fanatics turned coward. This city is slowly being swallowed by the waters, and as each day goes by, less and less salvage comes in to repair this ketch. While ether once ran richly, it grows thin. We starve, Wolf, and soon this world will take our home if it cannot be repaired. Now, again, tell me why I should grant you welcome into my ship."

"My skiff still has some working parts, you can use to jump start the ketch

"You offer a broken trinket and in exchange the Eliksni of this vessel will risk the wrath of the House of Wolves and the Awoken?" Rathiks demands harshly. "I do not believe you understand the dubious nature of your bargaining posture, Kraxian." The immense Devil steps forward, looming over the Wolf. "Allow me to illuminate your exact position. You are a fugitive that abandoned your House and Kell. If that [i]wreck[/i] you're trying to risk my ketch and life for can make this ship fly again, I will have your lesser arms ritually cut from your body. Your ether supply will not be taken, and I will leave you in a place where you can see the Great Machine and contemplate your god and actions until you once again understand what honor requires of you. I will leave you a shock pistol with a single charge so that you may offer a proper apology to the Great Machine." The blue eyes of the Devil Captain flare, and he continues in a snarl, "You may accept this fate gracefully. If you do not, [i]all[/i] of your limbs will become forfeit. I will [i]take[/i] what remains of the drop ship outside, and chain your writhing form to the hull of my ketch and starve you of your ether until this ship flies again and I can deliver you to either your House or the Prison of Elders, whoever will offer me more for you." The brutal Devil thrusts back his frayed cloak. It swirls in a rush of blood red fabric. "Finally, you may leave my ketch and city to survive on your own. I already know of two Guardian's in the city, however, and the Taken haunt the ruins. [i]These[/i] are your options, unless you have something far more valuable than a crashed skiff to inspire an act of kindness on my behalf, traitor."

[b]He throws something at your feet, and turns, brandishing his shrapnel launcher at dregs that approach[/b]

The Devil Captain kicks whatever it is away from him. It hurtles to the far side of the bridge. As Kraxian turns to threaten his crew, Rathiks draws a blade from one of the scabbards at his side. There's a steely his, and then a sudden crackle fills the air as the shock sabre activates. The massive Devil sweeps the blade in a brutal, deadly arc at the Wolf's neck, fully intent on beheading him!

[b]He blasts you back with a storm caller-style melee, originating from his gauntlets[/b] [i]You dare try and kill me? Fool[/i]

Rathiks grunts harshly in his mask as that gauntlet smashes into his shield. It blossoms into azure light, which shines across the bridge brilliantly. There's something bad about attacking an Elder Captain that's taken over a Baron's ship, though: he's taken the lion's share of Eliksni war gear. The shield holds, despite the fountain of color streaming away from where the lightning struck, and the sabre whistles again in Kraxian's direction.

[b]It's met by two shock swords, and the smaller captain uses his speed to launch a flurry of attacks on you[/b]

[spoiler]I thought he was holding a shrapnel launcher?[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Four arms, two grab the sword other two drop the gun[/spoiler]

The flurry of blows drives Rathiks back a step, and then two. His other hands grasp for the hilts of his other blades, and they come whistling out from their sheathes. He pushes forward again, stabbing at Kraxian's chest with his duel shock daggers while his sabres parry and engage the Wolf's blades in a weave of silver and lightning.