The crew found themselves on deck not hours later, with every bit of the outpost either pillaged or burned. All of the booty was then collected and piled onto the boat, save the two cannons and ballista they received from the fort, that were all now being placed down on the gun decks. Calliope had been right, they had been willing to surrender after that display of magical force. Even beforehand, they had been losing too many soldiers to retain any cohesion or order. They just hadn't know it yet.

Killing hostages was bad business. Particularly soldiers and men of worth like the commander of the outpost. You could ransom men like that, or give them a spot on your crew if they so wished it. But this commander was a bit too highborn to accept ransom, and a bit too lowborn to be worth much. And by the way he was acting, spitting at Markus' feet and claiming Calliope was the daughter of the devil, Markus had little choice but to make an example of him.

Markus had seen it before, but he had never ordered keelhauling. Jim tired a rope to the Commander's hands and tossed it over the mainmast, and over the entirety of the ship. Halvar and Corsica pulled at Markus' order...It only took fifteen minutes, but once they lowered the Commander's soaked and bleeding corpse onto the deck of the Weather Witch, the other soldiers, tied up and unarmed, were willing to cooperate. 

Halvar had been in dire straits, having been shot in the stomach and cut across the collarbone. But they had found the cache of healing potions, salves, and herbs the outpost kept and saved him. Everyone expected him to be bedridden for a few days, and he did indeed look weaker. But the Norgardian was made of strong stuff and still stood with the crew while they divided up the booty, the tied up men of the outpost watching helplessly as their belongings were quartered off. Grimey's share looked almost as big as her. 

As Markus distributed the wealth, Corsica looked a bit put off, raising an eyebrow and standing tall, her hands on the hilt of her sword. "Do you think because you lead us that you deserve more of the treasure?" she asked, dangerously. Scythians were known to be clever for barbarians, but they were also blunt as hammers.

Markus looked at her. "Is this your first time on a pirate ship?" he asked her. She nodded after a moment's hesitation. Markus held his hand up to halt the snickers. 

"Captain and First mate get double shares. Quartermaster gets a share and a half. That's how it's always been." he said. "Unless you see fit to challenge me for it." 

There was a flash of eagerness in her eyes, but it disappeared after a moment. "I wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty face." she joked, and Markus grinned. The Captain called for Sron, and the Gnoll was finishing hauling the last of the rum they had requisitioned, and he motioned them over to the piled bottles of the stuff. "This is freely and evenly given," he said. Before he had even finished, the crew were running over to it. "We sail tomorrow, hangovers or no!" he roared. 

Sketti stood beside him, chuckling darkly. "They're a fine crew, but a bit boisterous."

"As long as they can sail and fight." Markus replied. The Dwarf nodded. "Aye. What of the prisoners?" 

"Take them to the brig, I'll speak to them tomorrow." Markus said, turning back and walking over to the rum pile. The tripplettes moved out of the way as if they were the parting sea, and Markus grabbed a bottle and tossed it to Calliope, motioning her to follow him to the cabin. Once inside, Markus would reach into his coat and take out the amulet he had gathered from the chest. It was an obsidian-looking ruby, carved and cut a thousand thousand times, as black as coal and attached to a silver necklace. What's more, it was in the shape of a Dragon's head. 

"You did fine work." he told her, placing the amulet on the desk and sliding it over to her. "I don't have the skill to see what this does, but you earned it."

[hider=Info]
[i]Amulet of the Black Drake[/i] 
Inside residents the life essence of one of the descendants of Rugamesh the Abyss, the oldest known living black dragon. Grants the wearer a reserve of magical power. The downside, the soul could take over your body after long exposure through mental intrusion. The upside, if you conquer the soul, you gain increased abilities and Dragon characteristics, their strength, senses, and greed, and you could perhaps even transform into a small Drake at will. But only if you truly master it. Can be sold for quite a pretty penny to the right buyer. Calliope might or might not know the entirety of this information. 
[/hider]