For the entirety of his piracy career, Dolce has operated in the shadows of brighter heroes. An unseen hand, ever-vigilant, ever-careful, possessed with an impeccable sense of timing and a nigh-unnatural ability to slip from awareness, his was the role to elevate others to greater heights, with hardly anyone noticing what he’d done, and that suited him fine. But today he leads a war, as a Captain, and it will not suit anyone to search long for him on the field.

Ahead of the host he stands, clad in a thick suit of densely-woven material, dyed stormcloud-grey against the pale sands. No one on the field wears its like, for only he knows the ways of shearing and spinning. The wool of the Manor can, in the right hands, turn to purposes other than luxury. Do not rub your eyes, oh Lanterns, you have not been blinded by Apollo’s light. Sparks dance within the depths, static charges swirling about him, guided by slight nuance of step and gesture. No blade or shot will be stopped, but many will find their blows frustratingly turned aside. Vital points hidden in a maze of fabric, body obscured by purposeful asymmetry. Atop his head, he wears a matching cap, adorned with his badge of office, complete with earflaps tied around his chin to better spare his ears from the cacophony of battle.

And beside the stormcloud, stands the lightning. 

Where her husband stands solemn and sure, Vasilia seizes eyes and demands their full attention. See her body, powerful, strong, wrapped in countless tiny links of sparkling mail. Trace the thunderbolts around her chest, colored in shining gold; the pride of pirates everywhere. No scarf or cape to tangle her limbs. She is free, to fly, to draw any of the numerous weapons hanging from her belt and back, and strike devastation wherever she lands. Steel your hearts, o foes, that when the glittering whirlwind bursts forth from the poisonous smoke, you might not be instantly annihilated. 

Together they stand at the fore. Together they are among the best skirmishers to grace the Starsong Privateers. Together they sweep the enemy lines, and neither of them see the one they are looking for.