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(Ancient Pendant +2)

Rachel was amazed at what Katherine said... He was now the Tactition, temporairly but still. As long as the Tacticion/Quartermaster didn't betray the Dementia as he did the Navy, he might earn a bit of her respect. As long as they survive that is.

Rachel unsheathed her blade and heard Jonathan's order to charge. She walks past Jonathan, as she does she says softly but loud enough to Jonathan to hear, "The moon with be red with blood tonight..." She then walks onto the enemy ship and begins to slash at whoever had a blue uniform on.

Watching Jamie climb up higher in preparation for attack, Nicolas could only smirk. Having been so long since their last battle, Nicolas had almost forgot what had attracted him so much to the gypsy in the first place. Her adoration of battle was almost as awful as his own. The man was blood thirsty and the woman was not too different herself. Tightening his grip on his sabre, Nicolas began in her direction, shouting up to her, "I'll try and leave a man or two for you to face!" His tone was smug and the man was obviously not serious by the number of Navy men on the opposing ship, but it was like him to tease and poke at the other.

Awaiting the order of the captain, Nicolas was surprised to hear the voice of the much dispised Jonathon. Jumping onto the other deck as soon as possible, the man began to attack. It was much simpler to attack the Navy as they wore bright blue uniforms and stood out against the pirates Nicolas had spent so many months out on sea with. Laughing wildly as he sliced and stabbed through bodies, the man's gaze remained focused.

The elf continued through the ship, sabre in one hand and short dagger in the other. If a man had managed to get too close, Nicolas was able to stab towards his vital organs with the small blade, though he preferred to kill them with distance between them. The fresh blood stains on his shirt were bothersome and the man wished to save his doubloons for his own ship at a later time.

Jonathan simply stood at parade rest, unmoving while the battle raged on around him, like an unmovable statue... Aa invincible pillar of inspiration to his crewmates. The smirk on his lips and the icy-cold stare of death loomed heavily over the soon-to-be defeated Sloop. His gaze squarely fixated on a sole red-coated figure. At last, dear brother, I will take my revenge for Bethony Bay.

Jonathan, now just recovering from the shock of victory and the capture of his usurper brother, stands victorious over the railing of the Dementia, watching the William II slowly sink into the murky depths below. "There goes a piece of my history I'd like to forget," he comments to himself with meloncholy expression.

He turns around toward the Captain and the rest of the recovering crew, "What do you want to do with the priso-" he cuts himself short, perking his head up like he just remembered something. "Oh shi-!" Jonathan didnt bother finishing the exclimation as he turned toward the sinking Sloop and launched himself from from railing onto the enemy deck. In an almost frantic mode, the officer charges into one of the top-deck cabins, just before the door falls below the waves. Within seconds, the entire ship is gone, and with it a brave, foolhardy, ambitious, and noble man.

Other than the gurgling of air bubbles left over from the sinking ship rising to the surface, silence greets the crew of the Dementia.

After another moment of silence, a few shapes rise up from the depths to break the surface... barrels. Mostly empty barrels. Another moment went by and suddenly a familiar shape swam up from the surface and trying desperately to cling on to a floating barrel or driftwood. Jonathan had a silver locket around his neck, and a moderately-sized strongbox under one arm, which prevented him from moving. The officer coughed and hacked, and it was apparent that he is almost near-death, still clinging on to his life and the barrel.

Jonathan, still struggling for life (but struggling on to the strongbox even more), used all his strength to wrap one of the ropes a crewman dropped down to him around his arm, clinging to it for dear life as he begin being hoisted up from the depths below.
Tumbling over the railing, Jonathan stood up (a feat of strength indeed considering his physique) in front of Captain Kruel, placing his free hand behind his back in parade rest, while the other clutched the box to his side.
"Ensign Graves reporting," he coughed out, wavering back and forth, almost ready to tip over. The locket was now in plain view; pure silver and in the shape of a heart. Jonathan's eyes and expression looked glassy and distant, almost like he was either possessed, in shock, or oblivious to the world around him. "Permission to come aboard, Admiral, Sir." Weither it was in jest or if he had a relapse due to the near-death experience was unknown. Coughing up more water, Jonathan's strength finally caved in and he dropped unconcious to his knees, and finally to the deck by Katherine's boots, the box in a deathgrip in his hands.