The keg burst in a blast of sooty black smoke shot through with a spurt of flame. At Emmaline's suggestion Sketti had packed a charge of grape shot, essentially bagged musketballs and scrap iron, into the top. One moment the sirens were there and the next they were replaced with shredded piles of flesh. The surface of the ocean hissed like millpond in spring rain for a moment and then returned to is normal gentle swell. One of the pirates, aroused but now lacking any sirens to attract his attention, grabbed Emmaline by the tunic. She hit him in the head with the bell she had been ringing, dropping him to the deck with an unmusical thonk. Having ceased her bell ringing, she plucked one of the pieces of cotton from her ears. The song was gone, replaced only by the caw of sea gulls attracted by the carnage the bursting powder charge had inflicted. Emmaline didn't doubt that there were more, possibly many more of the Siren's beneath the waves, but hopefully the blood smeared rock would serve as a sufficient deterrent against any future attacks on the Hammer.

"Well don't just stand there!" Morgan bellowed at the crew, apparently having removed the wool from his own ears as well.

"Get to work clearing up this mess!" he shouted, waving a hand to indicate the wreckage Emmaline's impromptu wet blanket had made. The sailors peered around for a moment as though puzzled at how such a thing had come to pass before shouted orders and the occasional blow from the bosun got them moving.

"And get to work re-hanging the mainsail yard, Mannan save us we will be lucky if we dont run aground for want of a main course," he barked shooting an irritated look at Emmaline. She offered an extravagant bow in return before moving over to stand beside Markus who was reloading the rifle he had just fired.

"You are welcome," she said smuggly in Morgan's direction.