The man hesitated for a moment, looking towards his Captain for some sort of guidance. The man holding
Neith scowled, and then nodded his head.
"Do it. Cut him loose. Poor lad's probably all wrapped up by this bitch."
Without another moment of waiting the First Mate stepped over towards Kyril and drew his knife. His hand came up, snatching the gag from Kyril's mouth.
It was felt within the Abyss.
The small ripples in the puddle grew into a wave. Rushed over him, pushed him, and then suddenly
ripped him free. His eyes snapped open the instant he felt his lips freed, gaze spotting only the man with the knife above him. The brigand holding Neith against the wall.
Kyril let out an outraged cry.
"Kien Fien."
What happened next was an extremely grim sight. Enough to turn the stomach. As the man stepped towards Kyril with the knife his eyes shot open, hands suddenly reached up, grabbing the man's throat. A pulse of blue light rushed over Kyril's arms.
The markings upon his flesh shifted, almost seeming to move, and then the First Mate let out a horrid screech. It was an empty sort of wailing sound, his face contorting as he suddenly dropped to the ground with a loud thud.
"LET HER GO!" His voice boomed, filled with more energy than it had any right to hold. Bound hands came together, symbols upon his hand glowing with that strange blue light.