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[h1]Chapter 1: Strange tidings, bloody omens[/h1][/center]

[@Scribe of Thoth][@Rekaigan][@Claw2k11][@Bluetommy][@Naw]

[color=c4df9b]"Captain! Vessel to starboard!"[/color] The shout came down from the crows nest, an eagle eyed youth shy of 20 years old manning the high platform atop the ships mast. Armed with a cutlass and a parascope they had proven more than adept enough at spotting even the smallest ships at great distances. 

On the quarter-deck, Delilah Laxen stood stiff backed in finery with her polished dwarven rapier in easy reach. Far from being a decorative weapon to suit her station, the weapon on her person had seen more than its share of fighting in her time with it in the last year aboard the Great Aquarius. A salvage crew primarily, the company of men and women serving under her had taken a special place in the greater townships ongoing struggles against privateers. Now that they had been contracted and provisioned by the Dwarven craftsmen at Karaz Kharagul they were easily one of the top fighting ships sailing the 'Shallows' as it was referred to.
The clear blue waters known as the Shallows was likely an ironic naming that had stuck, sections reaching as far as 50 miles near as anyone could tell before hitting the seabed and other places reaching further still. The red sea, so named for its hostile denizens, was nearly its equal in terms of depths and size. Only the black sea to the south was larger on a scale none had ever charted, its waters inhabited by twisted monstrosities above and below the waves. Orc pirates, goblins, the sharkmen, sea drakes, Cerulean Crabs with claws big as a schooner was tall, to say nothing of the deep dwellers. 

The most valuable treasures lay at the bottom of the black sea but nobody sane of mind ventured out that way. Death was a far more likely reward than the riches laying at its depths.

Signaling the crows nest to continue watching, Delilah gave instructions to the helmsman to give chase before making her way to the railings where the crew toiled. 

[color=6ecff6]"To your stations! Lock down cargo, seal off the lower portholes. I want us at full sail with every crew member armed and ready for a fight. Remember your orders. Archers, ballista team, wait for confirmation of hostile intent from the enemy crew or until I give you the signal. Boarder teams you have my permission to cross at the first sign of hostility. Go!"[/color]

Not waiting for the 'yes captain' that accompanied her instructions, Delilah stood with hands on hips near the wheel staring at the blip in the distance. Maybe an hours sailing with favorable winds, two without. From a distance it looked like their target was limping in the waters. Not a good sign.