Hanging from the side of the Inexorable and peeking through the gun port, Oliver was impressed by the absolute chaos caused by one little squirrel. As he watched, Henrietta ripped a chunk from a pirate's leg before skittering under a cannon. As that devil cursed in pain, clutching his leg, others bent down to thrust their swords under the obstructing artillery in an attempt to skewer the menacing creature...

Not that Henrietta was still there.

Splinters of wood flew as she raced up a nearby support, then across the ceiling- only to drop on the head of a different pirate and begin to feverishly rake at his face, shredding an eye and the flesh surrounding it with her wicked little claws... And, before any could turn to aid their unfortunate comrade, she was gone again, weaving between legs and around cannon balls.

The scene was pure chaos, filled with shouts of pain and frustration over wails of anguish and cries for help. From Oliver's perch, he could easily make out several Devils that were missing eyes- even a pair that were completely blinded! A handful more writhed on the floor, shredded tendons and torn muscles unable to support their weight any longer.

Eighteen cannons to a side, thirty-six cannons in total. Two pirates manning each cannon, with runners for the powder and shot- plus a few extras that had come running when the chaos started. Roughly eighty pirates...

And Henrietta was positively terrorizing the lot of them. Though, thankfully, none seemed willing to fire a pistol in such close proximity to the cannons and powder- even Oliver knew how temperamental black powder could be.

"That's my girl." Oliver grinned, laying his hand on the cannon blocking his entry and quickly shifting it to the Warehouse before scrambling inside- his invisibility should be running out any second, he knew, and hanging from the side of the ship was not the best place for him to be when it did.

Dismissing his Aspect of the Familiar, he shuddered briefly under the sensation of the six foot long tail retracting and disappearing, and the feeling of the pointed squirrel ears that were part of the transformation shifting back to normal. The sounds of shouts and screams dulled as his sense of hearing returned to the less sensitive human norm he was accustomed to...

Not that he needed enhanced hearing for this; if anything, it would be a hindrance...

Oliver knew he would only have one chance to surprise his opponents, and wanted to make the best use of it. As Henrietta darted under a cannon on the starboard side of the ship, he pulled his AK from the Warehouse. Without hesitation, he flicked the safety off and set the gun to full auto. Shouldering the gun, he held down the trigger, spraying down the port side of the gun deck- careful to keep his aim level, as he certainly didn't want a round to accidentally ricochet off of a cannon.

The heavy rapport of the gun drowned out the screams and curses of the pirates, and a moment of silence descended upon the deck as all eyes- at least, those that survived- turned to the man that had suddenly appeared.

"This is the point where the smart ones will run, and the idiots will die." Oliver said into the brief silence, voice cold and indifferent. Storing away the AK once more and pulling out his short sword and a pistol, he didn't bother to wait for a response.

Chaos descended once more as he charged at the nearest pirate. Some of them fled, not willing to face the person that had wounded or killed over a dozen of them in an instant. Others hesitated, unsure whether they should fight or flee. A few turned to fight- especially among those closest to him, as escape was clearly impossible with so many between them and the stairs leading out.

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Oliver was on the first Devil in the blink of an eye, his sword piercing their chest before they could even fully draw their own. Kicking the surprised pirate of his blade, he indiscriminately fired his gun into the crowd- with the press of bodies, there was almost no need to aim.

Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Henrietta wove in and out of the attackers legs, biting and clawing at any exposed bit of flesh she could find- disrupting their attempt to coordinate in the process.

Oliver was almost disappointed with how easily they were able to kill these pirates that so many people had expressed a fear of... Though, he had to acknowledge that part of that was having both surprise and superior weapons on his side...

And a vicious little murder squirrel.

It wasn't quite silent as Oliver reloaded his pistol; while most of his attackers were dead, some still groaned in pain- to say nothing of those who had been wounded earlier, mainly by Henrietta.

Of course, most of the pirates had fled rather than fight- not surprising considering the shock of his opening attack... and likely a bit out of fear from the numerous shots he fired in such close proximity to the powder; while his more modern pistols didn't really risk throwing off sparks that could ignite the powder, these pirates, being used to their own flintlocks, wouldn't know that...

"This... was just sad." Oliver muttered, shaking his head. "I mean... you guys have a reputation! Or was it all because of numbers? I guess having more cannons and a lot more people certainly gives you an advantage..."

Henrietta's squeaks of agreement had Oliver turning a glare her way.

"Don't you start, missy! What were you thinking!? Jumping off the ship to come fight a bunch of pirates alone? Seriously?"

Petulant chatter was his response from the blood covered squirrel, and he shook his head in disbelief. "What do you mean it was an accident!?"

"So, you're the bastard that has been giving my men so many problems."

Oliver turned at the gruff, angry voice, and finally got a decent look at the pirate that inspired so much fear and concern on this world.

Chegor was large, easily eight feet tall and broad shouldered. A trio of horns- one from each temple, and the last in the center of his forehead- rose straight up into sharp points, adding an extra foot to his height and nearly scraping the ceiling above as he stepped onto the gun deck. Wearing only a loose pair of blood red pants for clothes, the deep ebony skin of his bare chest seemed to glisten in the light.

In his hand he held the ornately jeweled hilt of a sword- though, from the worn and well used look of the lightly curved blade, Oliver knew it wasn't just for show...

And, amid the throng of pirates that followed behind him- some looking rather reluctant to be returning to the fight- was the Demon Oliver had seen through his drone, his bat-like wings folded tight to his back.

"You should have kept running." Chegor growled, puffing out his chest. "You may have lived longer that way. When I am through with you-"

"How about we skip the stupid villainous monologue?" Oliver smirked, interrupting the pirate captain. "I mean, seriously, just looking at you annoys me. You look like you have your crew oil you up every day because you think it makes you look more impressive or something..."

"And, just so its clear," Oliver chuckled. "It doesn't; really it just makes you look like a creep. Kinda disgusting, honestly..."

"Do you know with whom you speak!?" Chegor roared, clearly infuriated by Oliver's taunts.

"Yeah. A dead man." Oliver grinned, leveling his pistol at the Devil.

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