Honestly – Ash has a point. He seems to be worried about you turning the creature on him – which you might, depending on what he does – but a bigger concern is that for all you know, Shume’s commands could override yours if he wakes up.
On the other hand – well, there’s a cell here specifically for wizards. The lock’s broken, but it would weaken him even so. Then again, what if it also weakens whatever’s keeping him stuck in place?
Well. You’ve got to get things moving along.
“Okay, guess I can’t. So how about this – you and I get Long to the galley, Marshall keeps an eye on Shume here, and yells if he starts moving at all. We can also dump this box somewhere so Shume can’t get at it if he wakes up somehow. Once we make sure Long’s going to be fine, we can come back and drag Shume over.”
Ash looks doubtful.
“There’s a lot that can go wrong there.”
“Lots of things could happen. But what I know is, there’s two Bogknights in real bad shape. And I don’t know what’s happened with you, but you’re still wearing a Bogknight uniform.”
“I haven’t had a chance to find new clothes,” Ash grumbles.
“Maybe that’s fate, then. Maybe it’s telling you that despite all the disgraceful things you’ve done, you’re still a goddamn Bogknight and you should act like one.”
That seems to have touched a nerve. He’s not happy, but he seems… resigned? He leans down and grabs Long’s arm.
“We’ll carry him by the shoulders,” Ash says. “Think you can manage the box, too?”
“It’s not as heavy as it looks,” you say, grabbing it. “Let’s go.”
You’re now Carma. You’re on the deck, looking at the serpentine beast the gods have sent your way.
But it’s not just any beast – this is a Giant. Not as big as the ship, but still at least eight to ten times your size. And this one flies, faster than you’d expect given how big it is.
The Giants are supposedly long gone from this world – the ones that remain serve as guardians of the gods’ realm, or so the stories say. But apparently they have enough to spare for tests like this.
It seems to take notice of you immediately, stopping its assault and flying up to meet you. It’s just staring at you now. Almost as if it’s daring you to make the first move.
Well. You think you’ll oblige.
Start with some freeform spoken word poetry. What it lacks in form, it compensates for with powerful emotional expression!
Also maybe go grab a harpoon in case this isn’t that kind of fight.