Jason
Alone Kythaela sat at the bar, a tankard half-full of mead in her hands. The tiefling slowly took another drink, the hat atop her head causing a shadow to hide the top half of her face. Broken Barrel had been quiet the entire evening. Beside Kythaela, there was only half a dozen others within the tavern. Shuffling slightly in her seat, Kythaela stared ahead, not interested in the goings on behind her. Soon, she'd return to her ship to patrol Findara's waters for the night, nighttime always seeming to be her closest friend in recent times. News had reached Findara of strange magic in Thyseer, tales of some vision and prophecy and- bah, it was all a myth to Kythaela. The Broken Barrel wasn't known for its brawls or even vagrants finding themselves in the tavern. It made it a perfect place for Kythaela while she was alone.

Seeing as the tiefling was a naval captain for Findara, pirates or even regular criminals didn't take a liking to her. If not for her hat, the pin on her coat was a dead giveaway; the Findaran flag with its signature osprey painted blue. Without her crew Kythaela was a bit uneased- at any point some unsavories could very well walk in and cause issues. If that were the case she'd try to slip out before they spotted her. Giving her crew the entire day off was pretty normal for the captain, as the Silver Saber typically patrolled Findara's waters at night. A tiefling captain was also quite a strange sight all things considered. There were many times Kythaela had been messed with simply because of the horns on her head.

_ _
Finishing the last of the mead in her tankard, Kythaela gently placed the wooden cup down upon the bar, prompting the barkeep to make his way over. Leaning over slightly onto the surface of the bar, he asked kindly if the captain wanted another drink, and of course Kythaela nodded her head. Being a captain and all, she'd not have too much to drink. After all, she had a crew and ship to look after, and needed to stay sharp for the night ahead. Soon, the barkeep returned with her refilled tankard, the froth at the top bubbling slightly. Mead had always been Kythaela's favorite. Hard liquor always left a sour taste in the she-devil's mouth, though she supposed it was meant to that in the first place. Taking a swig, Kythaela licked the froth from her lips before setting the tankard back down. Turning her head, she noticed a few more patrons leave the tavern.

Perhaps tonight would be quieter than she had thought.
Christi
*Loud and slurred singing could be heard from afar, slowly but surely getting louder as a group of about fifteen or so men and women stumbled towards the Broken Barrel Tavern. Pedestrians skittered out the way or risked being trampled by the group being led by a single woman, who sung loudest of them all.*

*The group pushed through the swinging doors of the tavern, and their leader hushed them while laughing.*

"Aye, men, we must be quiet. Don't wants t' be tossed out a tavern thrice in a row!"

*Through the silence that had filled the tavern, sharp laughter followed from the crew, and the woman lead them forth again, taking a seat next to the horned woman whom she hadn't noticed just yet.

Now that she was sitting at the bar, the tavern light illuminated her features. Her skin was remarkably pale, the only color found in light freckles and flushed skin, no doubt do to alcohol. Her hair was a few shades lighter than her skin and wild, obscuring most of her face from the woman beside her. But the barkeep apparently recognized her, paling as he approached. She smirked. Not more a fortnight back and her reputation was catching up to her.*

"This round be on me!"

*The cheering and laughter that ensued drowned out any feeble chatter that resumed in the tavern, and Pelle smiled as her own tankard of beer was slid her way. She raised her mug with the others, foam sloshing over the top and dripping to the bar top before she drank, downing half of the contents in one go.*
Jason
The sound of an approaching band of miscreants caused Kythaela to sigh audibly from her mouth. One quiet night. Just one, please? Tilting her head downward to hide her face a bit more, the captain continued to sip on her mead in silence as the muffled sound of loud voices and singing became clear with the tavern doors bursting open. A woman's voice spoke distinctly through the crew following close behind her, one Kythaela was thankful to not recognize. Though the mention of them having been thrown out of another tavern elsewhere did irritate the captain to an extent. They were already drunk off their asses, why disturb yet another bar? Soon enough, the sounds of the crew drew closer until the woman who was leading them plopped down next to Kythaela.

The tiefling sat unmoving for the time being, only doing so to drink from her tankard. Slowly, the clear grey eyes of the captain slid over to glance at the woman beside her. It didn't take more than a second to take in the elf's features, all of them beautiful in their own way. A disturbance or not, the she-elf was drop dead gorgeous, something Kythaela took note of immediately. Based on the reaction of the barkeep, the tiefling could safely assume this one was known to cause trouble. A pirate? That had yet to be confirmed. This woman and her crew could very easily be a simple merchant group, troublemakers, but legally for now.

_ _
Before Kythaela could think much longer on things, beer was spilt onto the bar in front of the two. Some managed to drip onto the tieflings pristine leather coat, causing an irritated sigh to fall from her lips. Finally, she lifted her head up, the shadows getting peeled away from her face to reveal the tiefling fully. Kythaela glanced over, the look in her eyes not one of friendliness, but irritation. "Watch yourself." Was all the captain said, and rather than move away she remained still in her seat, her eyes slowly lazing back over to the tankard of mead nearly empty in her hands. No trouble needed to be caused from this interaction, but the pin on her jacket would be enough to tell the she-elf what Kythaela was.

*And what she was was an individual not to be trifled with.*
Christi
*Pelle had already finished the last of her drink when her tall ears twitched at a sharp feminine voice, cutting through the crew's chatter and resulting in another bout of silence. Pelle had been so occupied with spending her (stolen) money as fast as she could, she hadn't realized the beer had spilt from her mug and onto the woman's oh-so pristine jacket. Pelle turned to face her, the crew behind her quieting slightly while watching, anticipating their captain's response.

Now looking directly at the woman, Pelle gave herself a moment to look her up and down. A pause. Something she saw clearly made her hesitate, and she swallowed whatever retort that was building in her throat. The tiefling woman definitely was alluring, but that wasn't what had made her pause. Crimson eyes seemed to glint as they lingered on her chest area, before meeting the woman's gaze. Pelle only smirked.*

"How rude o' me, miss. Tell ye what, I'll buy ye another drink, just t' show how sorry I am."

*The people behind her glanced at each other, before resuming their loud talking and drinking. They were half expecting their captain to swing, but flirting was just as much of a common occurrence. But they hadn't noticed what Pelle had. She disguised it as a vulgar stare, but she had indeed seen her pin. It was secured to the she-elf's jacket, making her rethink her approach. But the way it reflected the tavern lighting... It was begging Pelle to just snatch it off her.*
Jason
The way the she-elf's crew grew silent, anxiously awaiting their captain's response told Kythaela all she needed to know. If this woman got into trouble, they'd surely follow. As much as Kythaela wished to enact her authority upon the sun elf, she held her tongue in irritation. The offer of a drink however caused the tiefling's white teeth to flare slightly in response. Turning to finally face the she-elf, Kythaela's face was now on full display, the brim of her hate tilting upwards with her brow. "Yours is the *Last* Coin I'd want spent in my name." Kythaela's short temper was one many who knew her name associated her with. It was easy, especially when it fell from a pirate's mouth, to piss off the tiefling captain. 

Kythaela's words could have been taken a few different ways. Perhaps she knew who this pirate was, hence her pointed words. Perhaps she disliked sun elves, or maybe Kythaela was privy to the fact the sun elf's reputation and history to a fine point. Nevertheless, the words that were spat from the tiefling's silverly lips were filled with irritation and almost hatred, although she didn't raise her voice. In the seconds after speaking, Kythaela felt a pang of regret. After all, she was surrounded, and if they all decided to jump her she'd be surprised if even the owner of the tavern stepped in to help. Kythaela may have been an important naval figure, but at the end of the day she was alone, and facing an entire crew of miscreants.

_ _
Perhaps disengaging before the she-elf could respond was the best course of action. Setting down her empty tankard upon the bar, Kythaela swung around to stand from her stool, her back never fully to the she-elf in anticipation of an attack from behind. Looking down at her coat, a sharp sigh flung out from the navy captain's lips, the front of her coat still damp and smelling of booze. It was only when Kythaela realized her pin had also been hit with the stinking liquid did she feel her face go hot with anger. While to outsiders looking in it may have seemed as though Kythaela was overreacting or even looking for a fight, her hatred for piracy was more than justified in her life as a captain, and even before becoming one.

Physically, Kythaela bit her tongue and closed her eyes for just a moment. A hundred slurs and angry words danced around in her head. 'Drunk, miscreant, bastard-..', but still she remained quiet. Wishing to leave and be rid of the pirate presence that surrounded her, Kythaela soon felt her heart sink when she realized there was still an entire crew of pirates to walk through to get to the door.
Christi
*Her eyes glinted something dangerous at the words being spat from the captains mouth, but it went as swiftly as it came. 
She was certainly very drunk, and even more prone to fighting. And from the many ways Pelle could take the insult... Yet, her smile remained.

She turned towards the barkeep, murmuring something to him as she slid him her empty mug, before she turned to gaze back on the woman.*

"Do ye say that 'cause I'm a sun elf, or 'cause I've stolen two o' yer army's ships?"

*She tilted her head to the side, her mass of blonde curls shifting along with the movement, almost blending with her pale skin.

The bartender slid her a now full mug of beer. She sipped it slowly, watching as he slid the other captain another tankard of mead. 

She lifted her hand before the woman could object.*

"No need t' throw a hissy fit, miss. Rest assured the coin spent does not belong t' me."

*A few laughs from her crew at that, and one of them raised a glass at her words and all at once they were again all standing and smashing drinks against drinks, in celebration of their thievery. Truly the lowest of the low, and Pelle loved it.

And though they had just revealed her crimes to a captain of the whatever, Pelle laughed with her crew. What was the woman going to do- arrest her?*
David
|| no worries Im a slow ass replier too
Jason
"If you're implying my words come from a place of prejudice towards your race you might want to realize your speaking to a *Tiefling*." Kythaela's voice was like swords clanging against one another, her tone filled with irritation. Drunk or not, surely this pirate wasn't serious. First she implied Kythaela was showing prejudice towards her race and now she *Admits* To stealing Findaran naval vessels? How idiotic was this pirate? As the mug of alcohol was slid her way, Kythaela allowed it to simply slip right past and nearly fall off the edge of the bar a few inches behind her. Kythaela turned to face the pirate and moved the cloak around her to the side before reaching for the sword on her belt.

For now, her hand simply gripped the hilt, but it was obvious Kythaela had enough. "You admit to crimes against the Findaran crown. I have no choice but to place you under arrest." The situation was as sticky and hairy as it could have been with so many pirates surrounding her. Surely they'd realize she was a captain for a reason, and not some push over who'd allow a pirate to bully her into submission. A magical storm seemed to dance in the tiefling's eyes, lightning striking her pupil as if it were a metal rod attracting the bolts. "Do not provoke me, *Pirate.*" The word fell out like a slur on Kythaela's tongue, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

Looking to the rest of the crew, Kythaela gave a warning through the wicked and stormy look in her eyes, until she opened her mouth to speak. "I may be alone but my crew know very well where I am. Cause a scene and they'll come down on you harder and faster than you'll be able to run." Baring her white teeth towards the crew, Kythaela then turned her attention back to their captain. Gesturing with her free hand, the tiefling commanded the pirate. "Now, come slowly. Any sudden movements and I won't hesitate to strike you down."
Christi
*Pelle took another small sip of her beer, only half listening to the woman now. While she talked, the pirate once again glanced at the teifling's pin, then back at her face as she realized that a hand now laid at the hilt of her sword. For a moment, Pelle was a loss for words. This woman had some balls, that was for certain.

She couldn't help a but laugh under her breath. Sure, she was expecting a reaction from her jab, but from the size of her crew, Pelle was not expecting anything more than a few curses. But as the silence after Kythaela's declaration stretched, the crew of pirates behind Pelle went quiet, stilling. The air in the bar suddenly became thick. A hungry pack of dogs, waiting for their leashes to be released.

Pelle shifted over in her seat, so she was fully facing the captain. Her posture was still casual, but she blinked slowly, as if carefully deciding her response. But instead of speaking, she just nodded her head at the woman. A silent yes.

It happened so fast Pelle could barely blink before they lurched past her seat. Sixteen, sixteen was the exact number of pirates that descended on Kythaela. Some didn't make it to her, instead standing in a ring around what could only be described as a dog pile, snarling at whoever might dare to interviene. At the sound of a sword being unsheathed, Pelle sighed into her mug.*

"Don't cut her. I'd feel bad, scarrin' up that pretty face."

*She, again, finished the rest of her drink in one go, slamming down a heavy pouch of coin next to the empty tankard, only half watching the fight. If you could even call it that.*

"It didn't have t' go down this way. Ye could 'ave taken the drink 'n been on your merry way. But o' course, the likes o' you never can be easy."

*Now it was her turn to be vague with words. Not that it mattered, anyways. It would be a miracle if Kylthaela heard her speaking at all. She rested a hip on the barstool, now standing, waiting until she felt satisfied*

*With the beating to call it off. It certainly wasn't fair, but that's what made it so entertaining to observe.*
Jason
Sensing the shift in every pirate before her, Kythaela's grip on her sword tightened. She half-expected the captain to come forth and put up a fight herself, but to her dismay the sun elf was no such captain. Before Kythaela could fully unsheathe her sword, over a dozen pirates surged forward, piling onto her like wild dogs over a scrap of meat. With her sword stuck at her side and no hope of pulling it out, the tiefling resorted to throwing punches wherever she could, but a lot more were thrown her way instead. Kicks, punches- all landed blow after blow upon the devil captain's body. Her head, her arms, torso, back, no part of Kythaela was safe from the onslaught. Blood spat out from her light grey lips, but this fight would not be over until Kythaela was knocked cold or dead.

Steeling herself, Kythaela landed a few good hits as well. She was almost sure she saw a golden tooth fly from one of the pirate's mouth as her gloves fist met their jaw. Nevertheless, she was severely outnumbered and not in any condition to send for help. Hoping a civilian would do so was also out of the question, as most feared pirates much more than an angry seaman working for the crown. Out of all this, the one thing Kythaela couldn't believe or stand for was that the she-elf could stand by and allow others to handle her dirty work. Rage began to brew like a storm in Kythaela's chest, and with a growl that grew in volume, the tiefling let out a loud and furious roar.

_ _
Blasting out in all directions, a thunderous wave of magic blasted lightning and thunder outward from Kythaela's body. Pirates, chairs, tables and grog went flying against the walls, a handful of the she-elf's crew even falling unconscious. Picking her broken body up to her knees then feet, Kythaela turned to face the pirate captain, her own eyes filled with a thunderous storm like no other. Panting as blood fell down her face from a blow to her head, Kythaela pointed toward the she-elf. "H...- how typical." Wiping blood from her lip, she continued.

"A pirate captain unwilling- ha..." Kythaela then spat blood to the wooden floor, her eyes still burning into the pirate captain. "-nay, perhaps UNABLE- to fight her own fights." Unsheathing her sword, the 'Song of Eona', Kythaela pointed it toward the sun elf, a challenge between the two of them rather than the entire tavern. "There's always a *Bitch* Barking orders behind the mongrels." Growling through gritted teeth, Kythaela waited on unsteady legs for the she-elf to accept the challenge, though perhaps it was ill-advised to expect a pirate to fight fair.

"Come on then!" Kythaela beckoned with the tip of her sword. "Or is the 'respect' your crew has for you nothing but words?"
Christi
*Narrowly dodging a chair flying her way, Pelle rolled out of the way from the harsh roll of magic, the very force of it stealing the breath from her lungs. She caught a woman in her arms- one of her crew mates, who was sent flying along with the furniture. Carefully, she steadied the female, before facing Kythaela.

Pelle wasn't expecting this. With so many members piling onto the captain, the fact that the woman was still standing upright might've impressed her if it wasn't for the rage slowly bubbling in her her veins. 

She had underestimated the teifling. And it wouldn't happen again. The remaining members standing, seven exactly, began slowly advancing on Kythaela again. But they stopped dead in their tracks at an outstretched hand from their captain. Then her calloused palm turned towards the floor, and following her in their own silent language, they backed away from the two. She'd finish this bitch herself.

At Kythaela's words, she let out a rough laugh, one that didn't sound all that amused. Pelle shook her head softly.*

"No, it runs far deeper than words."

*She spoke finally, staring back at the woman with embers blazing in her eyes. Her blonde curls fell messily around her face, tousled by the blast, and she even had a few small cuts on her face from the flying debris. The small smears of blood stood out starkly against the paleness of her skin.*

"But o' course, wha' would ye know o' that? Who, pray tell, do ye respect? The crown?"

*The word 'crown' was spat as if it were an insult, rolling off the she-elf's tongue with disgust.*

"Has the crown died for ye? Killed for ye?"

*From the her belt, she swiftly unsheathed a sword, unnamed but beautiful, and holding the lives of many. She stepped slowly towards her opponent, before stopping only a few feet away.*

"Oh, I'll enjoy showin' ye jus' how able t' fight I am."
Jason
*Now Kythaela had this pirate bitch right where she wanted her.*

Of course, the captain knew the she-elf wouldn't fight fair. After all she was a pirate, and they were known for their tricks and cheats during combat. If Pelle was as cocky as she seemed, than perhaps she'd believe Kythaela would fight fair given her title and position under the crown. *She'd be sorely mistaken by the end of this night.* Pelle's questions weren't a surprise. All pirates looked at the navy the same just as all of the navy looked at pirates the same. One side was nothing but 'crown-kissing loyal dogs' while the other was nothing but 'thieves and cuthroat degenerates'. Regardless of the side one fell on, the stereotypes one felt about the other were as common and as plain as day. Kythaela did not fit this mold, however. But Pelle did not earn the satisfaction of hearing why the tiefling hunted pirates. Not yet, anyway.

_ _
"I respect my crew, as they respect me. Mine simply don't follow me around like lost puppies." Slowly, Kythaela sized her opponent up. The she-elf had a good few inches on Kythaela, though her horns evened that playing field quite fairly. Eyeing the pirates that now surrounded the two, at the very least Kythaela would hope Pelle wouldn't allow her crew to interfere. The captain expected the pirate to throw in her own cheats, but their was a fleeting hope that didn't include an unfair fight in terms of numbers. Blood trickled down Kytahela's face from a cut above her brow, narrowly dripping down past her eye. There was a clear bruise on the tiefling's neck, and her clothes had gone from regal and pressed to shredded and unkempt.

"You speak as though the crown is who I fight for. It pays just as well to kill the likes of you as stealing from innocent people pays pirates." Kythaela wasn't here to speak on ideologies however. With one last eerie but still look to her sparring partner, the captain lunged forward. A growl escaped Kythaela's lips as her sword clashed with Pelle's, and lightning seemed to seep from the very steel of 'Song of Eona'. Luck was on Kythaela's side in this fight however, as she had on her typical armor worn when sailing. It protected the most important parts of her body, but a well-placed slice could go right through her if Pelle was skilled enough. Her opponent was in a revealing outfit, making any hit Kythaela landed most definitely cut skin.

Sneering as the sounds of their swords clashed, Kythaela drew close to Pelle's face as their swords braced against one another. Kythaela's eyes were filled with a rage, a storm like no other. Spitting out a ferocious slur, Kythaela wanted nothing more than to anger her opponent into slipping up. "Show me how skilled you are, sandbitch."
Christi
*As their swords collided, and the two were face to face, Pelle sneered. She wasn't stupid, she knew Kythaela had an advantage because of her armor. But Pelle had fought without it's protection for over a century, and she was in far better shape than the woman who's sword ground against her own. If Kythaela thought that the pirate wasn't above using tricks to win her fight, she would be correct. Pelle was going to do everything in her power to win this fight.

At the slur that fell from the captain's lips, Pelle's eyes widened for a split second, before she barked out a harsh laugh. Because of her pale skin, most didn't pick up on her true race, so it had truly been a while since she had slurs flung at her. It only spurred her on more, her own insults dancing at the tip of her tongue.

The she-elf's biceps flexed as she used her strength to push the captain's sword to the side, then, using the momentary opening to her advantage, she used the hilt of her weapon to slam into the teifling's sternum, where she knew at this proximity a cut through the armor would be near impossible.*

"A being as low as ye bein' the one t' spit slurs. Ha, ye've got some balls."

*She blocked another blow, careful to avoid letting her opponent's sword pierce her in her more vital areas. Yet, too many scars littered the exposed skin on her arms, showing just how many times she had fought where the best protection on her body was a leather corset.*

"I'll show ye jus' how skilled I am, hellspawn. 'n I'll enjoy every second."
Jason
Their clashing swords caused spark to fly, and at each collision of steel it was almost as if a gentle roll of thunder emanated from Kythaela's sword. After all, it had the power of lightning enchanted into it, and with but a simple phrase she captain could call down Eona to smite her opponent. But that would end the fight much too quickly for Kythaela's taste. She wanted this pirate to bleed. She wanted this pirate to die. Striking toward Pelle, Kythaela was caught off-guard by the sudden blow to her sternum, sending Kythaela back a few feet. Recovering from the blow with a sharp inhale, it wasn't long before the captain was back in the fight, trading blocked blows with her pirate opponent.

The two danced like thunder and fire, their swords meeting perfectly. Each time one attacked, the other would block it. Each time one moved their foot forward, the other took a step back. They were in perfect synchronicity all things considered, and if they weren't fighting to take each other's lives, their dance could almost be looked at as beautiful. Pelle's words were not a surprise, nor was her comeback in calling Kythaela exactly what she was; a hellspawn. Lightning coursed through the she-devil's veins, begging to be let lose upon this pirate scum, but Kythaela held back. She wanted nothing more than to strike Pelle down with a well-timed and skilled blow to the body- no magic needed.

_ _
"So let me guess, *Captain.*" Kythaela sneered, parrying another blow before counter-attacking with her own. "You're the daughter of some whore who got knocked up by a scurvy-ridden pirate, does that sound familiar?" Kythaela suddenly became more aggressive in her attacks, swinging more frequently and moving her feet to get closer and closer to Pelle. The crowd that surrounded the two had to move out of the way to allow them to dance around the tavern, but Pelle would quickly realize her back was nearing the bar. "Daddy was too wild and loose to stay at home and raise you, so your slut mother was left with you. Seems to me she did a piss poor job, but that's just the way it goes with you sun elves huh?"

Kythaela was by no means a racist; but if her words could get under Pelle's skin and cause her to mess up and allow an opening for Kythaela to finish this, so be it. "She's dead isn't she? Or maybe she abandoned you. Would explain your demeanor- your lack of modesty or any sense of decency." Now, she'd attack Pelle personally. The way she dressed, her lack of intelligence, *Anything to get under that sun-kissed skin of hers*. With Pelle's back to the bar, Kythaela lifted her foot up and kicked hard, sending she-elf back first into the counter. Rushing onto her, Kythaela's blade was oh so close to the pirate's neck, only blocked by Pelle's own sword. Leaning over her, the tiefling now had the upper hand, her eyes stern and narrow.

_ _
"If I hadn't tagged you for a pirate the second you walked in, I would have assumed you were a working girl like your mother no doubt was. I bet you'd still allow yourself to be bought for the right price, wouldn't you?" Kythaela's voice was lower now, but no less filled with spite for the she-elf. Her proximity to Pelle could be considered much too close for comfort, but the situation the she-devil found herself in called for desperate measures. The two women's eyes were locked, as if Kythaela's lightning storm was trying its hardest to put Pelle's fire.
Christi
Despite the rage burning in her eyes, Pelle secretly savored each time their swords met, how the magic from her opponent's weapon rolled over the room like thunder, went through her body in waves. She hadn't fought like this in years. 

During combat, Pelle talked shit. A lot of it. But now, her mouth stayed uncharacteristically shut, too focused on the other as the captain ran her mouth incessantly. She hated the sound of her voice.

Most of the insults barely registered. It was a strength of hers, she thought. With most, one mention of someone's mother would have them in a blind rage. But Pelle could care less for the words slung at her.

*Or maybe she abandoned you.*

Suddenly, Pelle's sword felt somewhat heavy. The sentence made her falter, only slightly, but long enough to be pushed into the bar with a kick that was so hard that it stole her breath. The sharp feeling of splintered wood pushing into her lower back was the only thing that pulled her back from her trance, and she just managed to lift her sword to block what would have been a killing blow, inhaling sharply.

Hot- Pelle was far too hot, though her shirt exposed much of her upper body. The tips of her ears were rosy, and a light sheen of sweat coated her skin. She could've sworn small embers fell from her lips in the heavy breath she expelled. 

But the cloud that seemed to momentarily quell the firestorm in her eyes disappeared, and she smirked. 

"Why, are you offerin'?"

With more effort than she'd like to admit, she pushed her blade forward, shoving the captain off of her.

"Well, let me try now." This time, she was too slow, and the next blow landed, albeit shallow. A thin slice on her right shoulder, resulting in bright red blood smearing over her ivory skin.

Yet, she didn't falter, responding with a harsh blow that left a deep cut the teifling's chest plate. If it wasn't for the fact that Pelle hadn't coordinated it as well as her previous blows, it might've sliced the armor in two.

"A she-devil as a navy captain. How ironic. Trying t' prove that yer nothin' but lowly scum like yer forefathers? Let m' guess, ye hate pirates because we do exactly what yer kind does." At that, she paused, tilting her head as she blocked yet another blow.

"Or.. With how much ye seem t' loathe pirates, I wouldn't be surprised if ye've been used by one." The idea was so ridiculous that laughed, the sound so out of place in such a heated fight. She knew it was very unlikely, but she hoped that just the thought of it would get under her skin.

She didn't stop there, though. "I should've known. All this talk about my mother with some scurry-ridden pirate, when all along it was you." The leather wrap on the handle of her sword was slightly charred when she struck again, holding her blade against the other.. "Is that what this is about? Did you want another taste? Usually, I don't stoop so low as to lay with hellwhores, but you're pretty enough."
Jason
*'Got you.'*

Kythaela nearly smiled when she noticed Pelle falter, but her luck quickly ran out as the pirate launched a counter-attack of her own, one Kythaela expected somewhat, but not in the degree it was delivered. Slurs, sure. That was to be expected. After all, she captain initiated such profanity herself by referring to Pelle as a sandbitch. Nevertheless, Kythaela had heard such tripe before many times. When she had first joined up with the navy it never ended after all, even when they served under royalty sharing her race. But when Pelle held their swords together and suggested something as vile as sleeping with a pirate, Kythaela couldn't hide her surprise. There was a hitch in her throat.

*Jinx.*

Kythaela's heart raced a hundred beats a second, even faster than the fight had already caused it to be. Did Pelle truly know of her previous fling with the notorious 'Loose Canon', or had she hit the nail on the head entirely blind? The grip on her sword became weak for but a moment, allowing Pelle to land a hit on the she-devil. It snapped her back to reality, but there was still a hurt in her chest no sword had made. It was one Jinx had left. Steeling herself as she braced against Pelle's forceful words and blade, Kythaela parried, landing a blow that would surely leave a scar against the she-elf's forearm. "Actually, I prefer sand beneath my boot not in my mouth."

_ _
There was an obvious rage in Kythaela eyes, one that would scare practically anyone given she was a tiefling. Oh, but Pelle was different. She didn't scare easy. She was fierce, protective of her crew and one hell of a swordswoman. Kythaela's attacks soon grew more sporadic and not as refined as they once were. Something had snapped in she-devil's mind. A hatred for pirates that was only growing by the second, and while Pelle's gest was correct, it was not Kythaela's reason for hating pirates. That was an entirely different can of worms. Regardless, with her attacks as rage-fueled as they were, they were leaving her more and more open to counter-attacks that could very well end the fight.

Kythaela's fighting wasn't nearly as stable as it was when they started. It could have been the beating beforehand, Pelle's words or a combination of both. Whatever it was, she had become more dangerous in more ways than one. A second blow would strike Pelle's thigh, causing blood to gently trickle down her leg. *"I can't wait to see a rope around that pretty neck of yours."*
Christi
She grimaced as she felt the fabric of her pants split, warmth soaking the fabric and slipping down her leg. She was so focused on the captain's voice that the hit barely even registered. But as Kylthaela struck again, this time leaving a shallow cut on Pelle's cheek, she snapped from whatever haze she was in. A cold expression replaced her wild grin as she wiped her face, red smearing across her jaw. She supposed it was high time she ended this fight.

As their swords met once again, straining against each other, Pelle placed all her force into one last push, forcing both of their weapons to the side, then using the opening to shoot a quick jab into Kylthaela's throat. Hard enough to send her to the floor, gasping for air, but not hard enough to leave any lasting damage. She kicked the 'Song of Eona' far away from the woman, les she try and fight back when she finished this.

Pelle sighed heavily as she stood above the teifling's body, finally having a moment to stand still. She calmly rolled the stiffness out of her shoulders as her crew began a deafening chorus of cheers and whoops at their captains victory. 

Then, the cheers began to shift into something darker, almost hungry. She lifted her sword, it's sharp edge hovering above the captain's exposed chest. The air grew thick with tension once again as her crew watched intently for her next move, thirsty for blood and vengeance. It was a maneuver she had done countless times before in this exact situation. The finishing blow.

With a swift slice of her blade, she cut the navy captain pin off of Kylthaela's coat, reaching down and pocketing it. Her crew almost immediately fell silent, all giving each other confused looks. 

*"Why didn't ye finish the bitch?"*

She straightened up, giving her the pirate who spoke out a fiery glare.

"Are you questioning your captain?"

He quickly backed up, muttering an apology.

But her expression lightened quickly, and she shrugged. "I beat her, didn't I? Only been in Findara a few weeks, wouldn't want to stir up too much trouble."

Except, that was exactly what Pelle *Would* Want to do. But not wanting to anger their captain again, the pirates simply shrugged it off. Celebratory cheering endued once again as someone in the group offered to pay for tomorrow's drinking. They really had a one-track mind. 

Pelle clasped the approaching pirates' hands as they congratulated her on winning the intense fight, and instructed that whoever was able was to gather those were knocked down by Kylthaela's powerful magic. It slowly began to quiet down as they began to exit the tavern, which was in shambles. 

Pelle was the last to leave, stepping over Kylthaela. "I'll look forward to seeing you try to get to my neck." She smirked, barely sparing her a glance as she exited, following behind her crew.
Jason
The last thing Kythaela expected was to lose.

Feeling the force of Pelle's sword slam into her throat sent the captain into a choking fit. Falling to the floor, Kythaela gasped for breath, holding her throat as she felt her neck swell with pain. Looking up as what little air came through her windpipe, Kythaela quickly realized her sword was far out of reach, and the end of Pelle's was staring her down. On her knees, Kythaela's chest rose and fell heavily in both fear and anger. She was not scared of Pelle, no. She was scared of death. Scared of her family never knowing what happened to her. Scared of letting them down. The cheers that slowly grew into a chant to kill the tiefling solidified the end in Kythaela's mind, and with a trembling body she closed her eyes, accepting what she knew would be a quick end.

Jumping as she felt a tug on her clothing, Kythaela's eyes burst open to realize Pelle hadn't ended the tiefling's life. Watching helplessly as her navy pin was stolen from her, Kythaela's eyes switched from scared to furious. How dare she? How dare this useless pirate stain of a living being win a duel and not end it? Was Pelle without honor to even the degree of killing her opponent? Kythaela didn't understand fully which was worse; living knowing patrons within the bar would surely spread word Captain Kythaela Veldoris of The Silver Saber had been bested and pitied by a pirate or that she had been made a fool of and stolen from by a pirate. The captain's body ached, filled with the emotions she had feared feeling one day and the pain of the battle scars.

_ _
Watching in silent rage as Pelle scolded her crew and began making her way out of the tavern, Kythaela wanting nothing more than to chase after her, bring a storm down upon her sun-kissed skin- kill her where she stands. But Kythaela couldn't move. There was rage, fury, bewilderment, exhaustion, fear, relief- a hundred emotions and feelings crashed around in the captain's mind like waves upon a rocky shore. After Pelle was gone for a few moments, Kythaela finally stood, though shakily, and walked over to retrieve her sword. Looking down upon it with a feeling if disappointment, the tiefling returned the 'Song of Eona' to her side before retrieving her hat as well.

With a quiet sigh, Kythaela made her way out of the tavern, knowing the higher ups would need to be given a report of the goings on. A swift scolding or perhaps even reprimand was sure to follow, but nothing was worse than being spared by Pelle. Now out in the streets, Kythaela could hear the distant cheers of Pelle's crew fading as they walked farther and farther away. There was a sliver in Kythaela's heart that told her there was something else there that made Pelle spare her. Perhaps something Kythaela had said? No. She was a pirate. Pirates don't feel. They kill and steal and rape and ruin. Nothing more. Nevertheless-

The last thing Kythaela expected was to be spared.