[color=00aeef][b]Giraud- The [i]Lisette[/i][/b][/color]

Aboard the Lisette, Giraud carefully applied a weathered Fumigus blowtorch to the ship's corroded guardrail, bathing the metal in flame.  The [i]Lisette[/i] was always a demanding one, and it was a constant task to keep her in proper shape.  It was worth it, however- answering her constant demands was well rewarded, for she was an excellent fishing vessel capable of bringing in all manner of beasts that prowl the coast on legs or fins.  To maintain such a fine ship was a labor of love.

That wasn't to say, however, that it wasn't unpleasant.  Giraud had made a point to do this repair work while sober, as to not risk causing any harm to the [i]Lisette[/i], and these repairs were taking longer than he had anticipated.  Right now, he just wanted to be done with it so he could slink back in his captain's chair with the bottle of whiskey hanging on his belt.

Suddenly, the monotony of the repairs was broken by the sounds of gunfire and yelling coming from the town.  [i]Probably another raider attack[/i], he thought to himself as he lifted his welding mask and looked up at the town.  He was about to go back to repairs when he saw it.  A small Deathclaw, a juvenile from the look of it, attempting to claw its way into one of the houses nearest to the docks.

"Well I'll be," he said, throwing off his welding mask and reaching for his shotgun.  [i]No, that's no good, it's too far away, and it doesn't want to come over here.[/i]  He might be able to injure it, but not kill it, and it was unclear if it'd abandon its current quarry even if it was tickled with buckshot.

[i]Hmm, if it doesn't want to come over here, maybe I ought to make it, he thought, formulating a most unorthodox plan. [/i] He put on his hat and hobbled over to the ship's harpoon gun as fast as his bad leg would let him.  First, he pulled both triggers at the line holding the ship to the dock, messily severing it.  He then tossed the now-unloaded gun down, quickly knotted the line to a harpoon, loaded the weapon, and lastly, took a swig of whiskey.

Let's see how you like being hunted, you overgrown iguana," he said as he took aim.  A moment later, he pulled the trigger.  The barbed projectile flew through the air and struck the beast, embedding itself in its back.  Without looking to see how the beast reacted, Giraud limped to the bridge (if it could even be called that) and engaged the throttle in reverse.  The engine sprung to life, sputtering out black smoke, and the ship pulled out of the docks, briefly jerking when the line went taut as the Deathclaw resisted.  Once there was clearance, Giraud flipped the throttle forward and spun the steering wheel to starboard.  The [i]Lisette [/i]responded and made its way away from the docks.  It struggled momentarily with its harpooned quarry, but overpowered the beast's struggle to stay on land and dragged it over the beach and into the water as it helplessly released a pained, almost pitiful cry.

They may be big stuff in their own element," he laughed to himself, "But take them out of it and they're as helpless as a whale on land."