The ship creaked under the midday sun as sailors went about their daily routine. Crates filled with spices and liquor were needing hauled off the foredeck to below, the crew having neglected to move some of the shipment boxes after having gotten drunk the night before. This had the side effect of most sailors being unable to pass the time leisurely. Fortunately, it still left just enough of them to play Liar's Dice. 

Amal and the rest of them shook their cups, the two carved bones within clinking and clacking together against the cup before they were slammed down on the table in the foreroom of the ship, just below the deck. The thief had not caught all of their names as of yet, but at the table sat the Arabyan with an Ostermarker, Reiklander, a Kislevite, and a Tilean. It had the potential for a great joke, had Amal been more worldly. 

At the center of the table was a pile of coins, messily stacked to the point none of the players really knew who's bet was what. It didn't truly matter, they all played for keeps. The Kislevite, a man known as Dimitri opened his cup and grinned, spreading his mustache even wider if that were possible. The Ostermarker next to him had a similiar mustache, though he had a long thin beard preened out of his chin. Northerners were a strange folk. 

"three twos." The Tilean said haughtily to Amal, and the Arabyan shook his head. Behind him, the torch flares brightly, and Amal thought for a moment. "Four fives." 

"Liar!" 

"Show me!" 

The Tilean and Arabyan lifted their cups, and Amal raised his hands in triumph. The Tilean was suddenly slugged across the face by the Kislevite for lying himself, and the rest of the men followed suit with their guesses. None of them were as accurate as Amal's premonition, which gave him the win. The men grumbled loudly and punched him in the shoulder, but they were fine sports of it. Little did they realize Amal had positioned himself before the torch perfectly. He had seen their dice rolls off the reflections of their eyes.

"Sail ho!" A cried rose up from above just as Amal scooped up his winnings. He could not wait to show Emmaline his score. Added gold meant added fun in more than one way. The other men huffed and the Tilean laughed, rubbing his jaw as they went up the stairs to answer the call. Curious as always, Amal slid every coin into his purse before he followed suit. A bawdy song in his head, he felt like these lads were good to hang around with. As he made it to the stairway leading up, he wanted to throw a few jokes at their expense, but found the silence topside [i]deafening[/i]. 

The clouds ran across the sun's light, eclipsing the ship to match the general mood and confusion of the Destrier's crew. In the distance there was a strange shape. Indigo in color, with double Lateen sails and the terrible head of a sea drake carved on its bow. As it approached, the wind caused it to shift lightly, and Amal's keen eyes made out something behind it. Another ship? He didn't quite understand, even as the Captain told his quartermaster to get the men to their stations. 
[@Penny]