Ravus came up from beneath the deck, he was still limping, but was also now wobbling. "My king... I have a question..." He moved closer, the smell of beer was more than evident on his breath. "What are we, as in the heroes of Albion, going to do about this. From what I have read and seen, this is nothing compared to the Crawler, just that the soldiers were not properly trained to handle such a great task as a mass army of the undead." He fished around his pockets, still wobbling, "I have this idea for a new gun, it is rather large but I think it may work us fine." He pulled out a small folded up piece of paper and opened it up. "My master called it, the chain gun." He stared at the paper for a bit, like he was going back into dark memories. "He was a smart man, and one of the world's greatest blacksmiths. I think it would be a great asset to use his machine to save Albion." He put the paper into Arex's hand "Excuse me a moment," He leaned over the railing and expelled the bile from his stomach, "I've never been a fan of boats." Ravus slid down the side of the railing and pulled out a small, silver flask. 'To the king, and his next great triumph." He raised the flask then took a big swig.