Gamble leapt off the prow of the skiff just as it slammed into the dock, ten other clanbrothers in a V shape flying though the air beside him.  He swung his razorclub downward with all his momentum and pushed a spear out of the way.  Both his feet swung forward and kicked the Rennon back.  Landing in a crouch, Gamble disconnected the dagger from the side of the club and thrust upwards as the Rennon came at him again.  He caught the dock worker right under the rib cage and pushed up using his legs and shoulder.  The Rennon died and toppled over.

With a clash of metal and screams of violence, the Tormangi leapt on the defensive line at the dock's edge and 300 years of rage was unleashed.  Clubs and daggers parried with spears and swords.  Blood sprayed in all directions.  Entrails splattered.  Bowels released. 

At the corner of the dockyard a defensive tower stood with ballistae and archers.  Tormangi charged the base and used Arcanum Crystals to turn the support stones to sand.  With a crack and a roar the tower collapsed and fell into the ocean.  More teams were sailing their skiffs along the docks and used Arcanum to shatter holes in the ships at their water lines.

Gamble swung his club left and right, connecting with flesh and bone.  In less time than it took a heart to stop beating the Rennon line was broken.  Gamble looked around and saw the three teams of his clanbrothers moving in unison to attack and surround patches of Rennon sailors who were caught without a structured defense.  They only knew to form defensive circles when caught in the open and that worked to the Tormangi's advantage.  With darting moves and throwing knives they picked the Reds apart.

Through the chaos, Gamble saw the Harbormaster's Office about twenty paces away.  A large Rennon officer was going through the door, sword held loosely with a bloody arm.  That would be Dorsitt, the target.  Gamble started running after him.

Behind him there was another thunderous crash and shriek of splintering wood.  One of the cargo ships had keeled over and ripped its moorings out of the pier.  The absolute destruction the Porpoise Clan had been able to create in such a short time actually surprised him.  The plan they'd drawn up and rehearsed was working better than he could have hoped.  Now he just needed one more thing before sounding the withdrawl.

Gamble reached the door and wrenched it open.  Dorsitt was standing next to a widely flanged metal pipe coming through the wall and shouting into it.  Gamble didn't hesitate.  He threw his dagger at him and leapt across a large table scattered with papers and scrolls.  The dagger bit into the Rennon's shoulder.

Dorsitt twisted away from the wall and knocked the dagger out of his arm.  He raised his sword as Gamble came flying down at him, razorclub swinging.  The sword clanged off the metal chines along the razorclub's head.  Gamble kept charging in and shoved the butt end of his club up at Dorsitt's face.  The Rennon took the blow in the chin while striking out with his injured arm.  The fist smashed into Gamble's nose and broke it.

Gamble whirled the other direction and brought his club down on the back of Dorsitt's leg.  The Rennon collapsed as he was trying to bring his sword in for a killing blow.  The sword whistled over Gamble's head and clattered against the wall.  Spinning out of the Rennon's reach, Gamble used both hands to shove the point of his razorclub through Dorsitt's chestplate.

Dorsitt gasped and spit up blood.  Then he slumped to the floor and weakly reached up in a flailing motion.  Gamble shuffled on his knees over to Dorsitt's sword and picked it up.  He pushed himself to standing.

The Rennon looked up at him and coughed, trying to speak.  "Who..."

Gamble spit blood on him.  "I'm supposed to stand over you dramatically and tell you that your time on Yimalkin came at a cost.  And that bill has come due."

Dorsitt started to fade out.  The look of bewilderment turned to one of despair.

Gamble raised the sword and struck the Rennon's head off with one blow.