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A small shape skittered down the mast from the crows nest, running across the deck to speak rapidly to Jornir. Immediately, the firbolg's head snapped up to gaze at the horizon, nodding in response. Fast as lightning, Skrimm hurried his way down into the hold, dodging early-morning crew going around their buisiness, until he reached the berths.
Ignoring most of the sleeping crew, he ran straight under many 'beds', making a beeline for the back corner where five hammocks were strung up in close proximity. Not bothering to lower his voice, he approached the one with long ears peeking out. "Queenie. Queenie, wake up. We gotta problem."
Jerking her head up and out of her blanket, hair going every which way, their ships ranger hissed angrily at the goblin. "Skrimm, keep your voice down! What the hell are ya -"
"None of the others are here, c'mon. I need your eyes, something's wrong outside and nobody knows what's up."
Her anger fading somewhat, Queenie finally rolled out of her hammock, pulling her hair back. She pulled her leathers over her torso, then the longbow around her body, before she nodded at the goblin.
"...alrigh. I can come and check it out. I swear, if you're tryin' to get outta lookout duty early..."
Skrimm gave her a look, clearly unimpressed with the lack of faith. "D'ya think Jornir'd let me down the mast if that was the case? Nah, nah, he's worried. Says there's... something wrong with the wind."
One long ear perked up, and Queenie stopped to listen. Her face creased into a frown as she sniffed the air.
"... he's right. The wind's not movin' all normal, it's goin' all sorts of different directions.... and there ain't any smells around. Not even Barnabos' cooking. What'n the nine hells is goin' on...?"
She whipped around and ran through the hold faster than Skrimm could react. The crew had learned long ago that if they heard running feet, they needed to make way before being overrun. And, like always, at least one crewmate got knocked the fuck out, slammed back against the wall when she darted through the cramped halls and up the stairs to the deck.
Skrimm followed her path of destruction at a much slower pace, some nagging feeling making him call to Barnabos when he passed by the galley. "Hey! Hey Barnabos! Somethin's going on topside, let's go!"
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"....you can feel it too."
Stiff as a board, their captain stood at the helm, staring out across the horizon. His dead eye glowed blue, the magic drifting off of him like whisps of snow as he slowly swept his gaze across the open water. "...there is magic out there. But I cannot... see -where-. Taishen feels it as well. It is making him... itchy, he says."
Queenie turned her head, watching the dragonborn walking back and forth close to the railing, his tail twitching in aggravation, sparks flickering off the tip. She hmm'd softly, sweeping her gaze up to the crows nest.
"...I'll head up top. See if I can spot anythin'."
She grabbed the rigging, hoisting herself up and beginning to rapidly ascend. Of course, she was only halfway up when a skittering noise from below made her roll her eyes as Skrimm overtook her, popping himself into the nest to peer down at her.
"Yeah, Skrimm, yer weird-ass climbin' is real impressive. Move over." Hauling herself up and over the edge, Queenie began scanning the horizon... and froze.
"... oh fuck. Skrimm, ya said ya didn't see anythin', right?"
Puzzled, the goblin tilted his head up to look at her. "Uh... yeah? There's nothin' I could see out there."
"...I'm gonna fire an arrow. As soon as I do, go down an' tell Taishy to fire at the same spot. Got that? It's gods dammed fey magic, no wonder nobody can see it."
Skrimm groaned loudly, leaning over the nest and fixing his gaze on their gunner down below. "Fuck. We shoulda known we were doin' too good to not get someone more powerful after us! Alright, go for it, Queenie. Let's show 'em what we can do in an ambush."
Slowly, keeping just the corner of her vision on the horizon, Queenie began scanning around the ship. Her face brightened with a bit of a fierce grin when, barely visible... a small boat appeared off the starboard side, made of dark wood and practically radiating a green magic.
There was a certain way to see around fey magic: an old friend had taught her years ago before he had died.
'...you can't -look directly- at it. That's the whole point, they want ya to look straight on so's their trickery can fool ya. If ya look juuuuust outta the edge of yer vision, ya can-'
"...spot 'em. Thanks, Old Bear. Skrimm, go!"
Faster than he could react, her bow was nocked, the arrow loosed and screaming through the air. He blinked and snapped his fingers, appearing before a startled Taishen.
"Fire where her arrow is heading! Nownownow!"
The whoop the dragonborn was too loud, per usual, but his enthusiasm was unmatched as he shifted his cannon just a touch, slamming the fireball in and watching it fire with a gleeful expression on his face.
Crowding along the railing, the entire crew watched with baited breath. One moment... two moments... three....
Then, a roar as the fire collided with... something. Immediately, the illusion shattered like glass, green magic disappating into the air and scattering on the breeze.
Jornir straighted, his voice echoing loudly across the deck.
"Twelve boats off starboard side! Crew, prepare yourselves! Let Odin guide your blades, and let them fear the thunder!"
Clouds immediately roiled around their ship, lightning beginning to strike.
Up on her perch, Queenie could just see the shocked expressions of the crew of assorted elves that had thought there was no way they were spotted. Nocking another arrow, she began to fire rapidly, decimating their forces while the rest of the crew began their assault.
They never spotted her until it was far too late.