Octavius was pleased with the way things seemed to be going smoothly. His first mate decided she needed a pipe to do her job, but he didn't argue with her. As long as she kept them from catching fire, the captain wasn't going to complain. While she did that, the warlord watched things that were going on, and monitored the progress of the [i]Powder Keg[/i]. It was a quick ship, all things considered, but he knew for a fact that it wouldn't corner well. Cyrus was never one for compromise, which was strange, considering that he would only ever pack twenty-four pound guns. Then again, the pirate wasn't about to question the man. He was still one of the best gunners he'd ever seen. Thankfully, the previous captain of this ship had been kind enough to grace them with half a dozen thirty-six pound guns. It was going to make things a lot easier, with so much firepower. And with the added range the top deck provided, they should have no issue standing off their opponent.

The only real problem, was getting to Cyrus. The rest of the [i]Powder Keg[/i] could swim with the fishes for all he cared, but his gunnery captain was going to be very necessary if they wanted to survive the most terrifying place on this earth. Then, as he returned to the helm to give some last-minute tips to the helmsman he had appointed, Captain Cuttlam realized they were creeping into twenty-four pounder range. He felt like his head was ready to explode. The pulse pounding in his temples was like a bass drum, and he struggled to remain calm. "If you don't fix this in the next two minutes, sailor, I'm going to skin you alive and wear you like a cape, is that understood?" he growled, a miraculous amount of calm in his voice. The man seemed to understand immediately, and quickly set a new course, setting the [i]Duchess Gambit[/i] on a path that would have them ringing their enemy's ship like a gang of twelve-year-olds on bicycles. 

From there, the warlord returned to his current gunnery captain, who was observing the loading of the last cannon. "Fire at will, gunner. Shoot to sink her, leave the crew alone." he ordered, giving the man a reassuring pat on the back as he moved to stand between the cannons and the bow. It wasn't long before he noticed a few sailors standing around watching. Most of the watchers were prepared to repel boarders, which was commendable, but the captain hadn't ordered such a thing. "What. The. Fuck. Are you standing around for?" he used his loudest, most intimidating voice to call out those not working. "Make this ship go faster, or I'll flay you alive, and hang you up for a sail!" he added in a similar tone. Weapons were abandoned in favour of finding minute lengths of sail that hadn't been entirely stretched out by the wind. The ship didn't speed up by any noticeable amount, but any little bit counted. They were trying to out-run a fire-ship at this point, but it was a fire-ship that remained both manned, and hungry for blood...