Oh he could just try! As Jemalas made for Mea, Zarth threw his whole weight against him, with such force that he felt the boards of the deck give way slightly when they impacted on the floor. Any lesser men would surely not have risen for some time, and not without a few broken ribs. But Jemalas was not like other men. He was many times as dense, and much stronger than appearance would imply.  Weapons lying across the deck, Zarth and Jemalas were locked in a fierce wrestle, while Zarth tried to grab his dagger. Eyes locked, the two men sensed nothing but each other, hate and anger visible in their eyes. However, something in Jemalas eyes made Zarthanator unsure of the nature of his adversary, and not knowing what he fought only made him fight harder. That was until his hands caught fire.
 
First shocked and amazed, then the pain. Zarth jumped off Jemalas and reeled back. How could this happen? He could smell the burnt flesh, and the pain was mindnumbing. He hit the deck, trying desperately to quelch the flames, but to no avail. These flames were not natural, they would not die. He considered diving off the ship, maybe water would help, but he could not leave Mea... Mea, he looked towards the direction of his protected, and saw her covered in chains, and the back of Jemalas as he headed down the stairs.
 
Feelings flooded over his mind, overwhelming the pain in his hands. Relief that Mea was unhurt, anger at himself for not doing a better job at protecting her, anger at Jemalas for doing this to her, and some other feeling that he couldn't quite explain that stirred from the sight of Mea held in chains. He grimaced at the pain as it once more surfaced his mind.
 
Mea must have somehow overcome Jemalas magic, because her chains vanished, and the fire in his hands died away. He looked at Mea somewhat surprised, and bent to pick up his weapon. Mea told him not to worry, and as he looked up into her face, he knew everything would be fine. Her kindness almost paralyzed him, and he was unable to move. He sat there, on the deck, watching her. She was gentle, yet tough when she had to. Intelligent, brilliant by all accounts, yet sometimes the joy she expressed made her look like a child praised by her parents. She was all and everything, and yet he could not prevent this off worlder from getting between them. He would brave any army for Mea, but this man he did not know how to fight.
 
As he knelt there, on the deck, Jemalas appeared, and started talking. Zarth held his broadsword hidden from him, maybe surprise was the only weapon he had here. He made no threatening gestures, but his whole body was tensed like a coil, ready to spring upon him at the least warning. He silently thanked any God who cared to listen that he be placed between Mea and Jemalas. He would protect Mea, or die trying. Somewhere, in the back of his head, he wondered what his father would have said.......
 
Zarth.
 
Tarald - The Lord of Smeg
 
You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on