[center][h2][colour=SlateBlue]Chirina[/colour][/h2]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/qayJzkk.png[/img]
[/center]

The salty air tasted good... too good. That could only mean that blood was in the air or would be soon. Chirina loved that smell and taste. Of combat soon to be had.

Chirina of Tuul released her grip on the railing and turned around facing the rest of the ship she had joined not very long ago. Activity was buzzing, so close to the engagement. But she, personally, was ready for anything to happen. Her musket slung over her shoulder, with powder bags on her belt, she inspected the work the crew did, even if she technically wasn't responsible for that. It didn't matter to her, really. If the ship ran well, everybody on it would profit.

She sighed and marched down the line to the stern of the ship where the first officer awaited to order her to prepare the guns.
Chirina saluted. [colour=SlateBlue]"Aye!"[/colour]

Stiffly, she turned around and headed downstairs to the gun deck, inspecting one gun after the other. To be honest, she found that the armament of the ship was kind of laughable. For a mercenary ship that would want to go against pirates, who sometimes are quite well equipped, six guns in total seemed wholly inadequate. She hoped, for her own life's sake, though, that the crew would be at least capable in musket combat and later in hand-to-hand combat. She didn't exactly want to go back and find yet another crew to join.

Knocking with her gloved fist on one of the steel guns, she nodded satisfied. At least those guns they had were of decent quality, that was better than she had expected when she had taken a look at the ship for the first time. 

Satisfied with what she had seen, she went even further down to hold, where the magazine, protected from the water by not being directly on the hull, but separated from the outer hull by an extra chamber, lay. A safety procedure that she was thankful for. The last ship she had joined did not have that measure, since it was a very old ship, built before the prevalence of firearms. As soon as a single shot pierced the hull under the waterline, the powder magazine was already unusable, which had, in the end, cost almost the entire crew their lives.

But here? This seemed too perfect... and it worried her. When things went perfectly, she expected something to go wrong at one point or another. Carefully, she opened a barrel of black powder, sniffing on it and testing its consistency. Everything seemed fine.

After another short visit to the armoury, she went back up to the spar deck to report in.

With a slovenly salute she stood in front of "vice captain", as he seemed to be called, Valencia.
[colour=SlateBlue]"Reporting in: Everything is in order, sir. As gunnery officer, there is nothing on my side that would prevent us from engaging. On a personal note, I cannot wait to taste their fear... and their blood."[/colour]
A vile grin spread over her previously professional looking facial expression and her tongue rolled over her exposed teeth, the canine teeth unnaturally long with her and her entire clan. Not even humans were safe from the mutations the new water world brought.

[@ManoftheNorth]