Galt tried to calm himself down. 

He had hurriedly thrown his dark thieving clothes into one of the crew's crates and commandeered some deckhand's wardrobe. He had on a pair of workman's boots, some loose fitting breeches, a worn leather belt, and a low cut sailor's top. The thief wasn't particularly hairy or muscular, and felt a bit exposed waltzing about in the garb. He had no time to chuck his knives, specialty items, or garb overboard. He heard the boots above, and through the fixed glass porthole he saw the pirate ship not a dozen feet away. Cries of fear and dismay were heard above, and the stow away went to grab his valuables. 

He took the gilded knife and kept it hidden within his sock, while the silverware was wrapped at the center of his cowl, able to pass a rudimentary inspection like as not. The only wildcard was the map, the one his comrades had died for. He wasn't particularly sad about their deaths, though an annoying melancholy had not yet left him. The projected value of the Map of Algorab quickly stole his attention from the distant grief, however. He had heard wild tales of Algorab, though he wasn't sure if that was a place, a person, a bloody language even! But images of mountains of diamonds and rivers of gold coins passed through his mind. Magic artifacts that could ensnare one's mind or give one the power to be a king. Galt wasn't a particularly power hungry or ambitious man, but his life had been pretty shit for as long as he could remember. An unimaginable treasure would be something that would definitely lighten the thief's mood. 

He unlatched the brass mechanisms, and opened the case carefully, expecting some form of toxic gas to spew forth. He was relieved when nothing occurred, and found he was looking at a plain bit of rolled up parchment. It was so unassuming he was disappointed for a brief moment. Blinking, he grabbed the scroll-like item in the effort to unroll it. When his fingers gripped the parchment, he felt there was something hard hidden within. A shout above drew his attention for the moment, but he looked back down at the mysterious paper and decided it was now or never. He unrolled the map. 

It was blank. 

"That pisses me off." He breathed to himself, but his thoughts halted when a small bronze charm wrought in the shape of some kind of weasel tumbled out. No, a mongoose, he thought. He had seen them sold in the Bazaar in Visipirya. He plucked it out of the case, eyeing it closely to appraise the piece. Maybe he could salvage something from what was clearly a ruse for dumb thieves. 

The mongoose unraveled between his fingers, and before he could move, it leaped into the iris of his eye. Galt yelped, his left eye suddenly dark. He grabbed at his face and pawed at his left eye, crying out in alarm. His back hit a crate and sent bottles of rum spilling out, rolling across the floor of the cargo hold as he panted in confusion and fear. Slowly, he pulled his hands from his face, blinking in abject surprise. 

His left eye could see fine. 

"What the fuck?" He breathed. 

"Oh, we got a tardy crewmen, do we?" The voice of a lout asked facetiously. Galt turned, and realized a pair of pirates had already made it halfway down the stairs during his confusion. One aimed a pistol his way, and the other carried a twin pair of horrendously sharp axes, smiling as if he itched for Galt to give him a reason. Galt wouldn't, as far as he could help it. He raised his hands in surrender. 

"Come on, pretty man." The pistol wielder said, indicating Galt go up the stairs. Galt did not consider himself overly handsome, but he guessed anyone without a cleft lip or a thrice broken nose was considered princely in the realm of pirates. 

"Aye, aye, I'm going." He assured them, walking briskly to the top as they followed closely behind. He made it topside with a musket barrel pressed to his cheek, and he squinted from the sudden sunlight. Before him, the merchant crew were on their knees, swords, muskets, and boarding pikes aimed their way. A few were on their feet, but the rest seemed distraught or grim. The pirates were a rough assortment of ugly and burly. He noticed a dwarf among them smiling cruelly, and a woman at the center. She had thick red hair and an intelligent glint in her eyes. He took quick stock of her face and body out of instinct, and Galt might have bought her a pint at a pub if he had seen her anywhere else. Here though? He was pretty scared shitless of her, as she was obviously the captain. It took a tough as nail's woman to live among a band of odious brutes, much less keep them in line. 

"Found this'un below decks! Spilled some good rum, but most of its intact." The axeman announced, and Galt felt like the woman would call for his death there and then. 

"Next round at the next port's on me if I can join your crew, Captain!" Galt remarked, before anyone could really comment on his appearance.