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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
The breeze off the ocean stirred the sails and Yarba's black mane, tied back in a tail. Briny odors assailed the nostrils, wooden planking, pitch, and the old iron tang of blood. Coils of rope sat still, securely tied in place, at attention as the First Mate of the Iron Eel strode by. Shoulders back, chin high, barefoot, and bold, Yarba Barltooth moved with a confidence that most people could see in her stride and the way she moved with a harpoon in her hand. Spindly Jan took one disdainful look the orc woman's way before her lip curled and she spat into the water. At least the fool woman knows better than to dirty the deck.

Monkey's feet slapped against the planking, a broom in his hand as he sped like a demon around the foredeck. Make way! Make way! A'cleanin' I is! The half elf nearly ran the Mate over from behind had she not pivoted aside at the right time. Sorry sorry! Speckers! The apology lacked any weight, but the cabin boy came hustling around behind the swabbing man with a hefty bucket of water clasped in his two hands, nearly bending backwards to keep it from falling from his grip.

Mirehyu sent out her bird. Roul Fang dropped from the rigging with delicate grace, his movements more like a dance than a fumble. He simply lightly fell to his feet, perfectly balanced with cat-like arrogance beside her.

I suppose that's why you're not up in the Nest where you should be? Her golden eyes were cold above her smile and the man winced slightly, blanching ever so slightly.

Yes, ma'am. He took her meaning quickly and began to haul himself back upwards. He should know better. Bird's still a bird. Eyes will see a reef or a shallow wreck... or a leviathan. There had been many reports of sea serpents in these waters. Small or large, it mattered not. Even a small serpent was larger than a small ship all on its own with hundreds of teeth and great muscled coils capable of sending even the bravest captains to Daveth Ginn's Halls in the Depths. Yarba had never seen one, nor did she ever wish to.

The great winged thing floated down towards the foredeck where the drow woman waited. Yarba watched at a distance, knowing Fiend to be a bloody tempered creature and wishing to have information sooner than later. Captain Rolf was still sleeping off a hangover, but there was nothing better than a nearby ship to pillage to rouse him from his slumber. It was several minutes before the drow woman raised her eyes to search the deck. Miri, what's the report?

Ship. She paused, taking a bearing with her body. North by nor'east.

Yarba's eyes gleamed and she swiveled on her feet, aiming her lungs towards the helm. Bulwark! Heading north by northeast! The call was handed down by excited crew from the First Mate towards the troll at the Eel's helm.

North nor'east!

North by nor'east!

North and nor'east!

With a solemn nod, Bulwark turned the great wheel and Vohx, upon his shoulder, began to shift the currents in the Eel's favor. That left a few more things to get done. Raise the colors! Prepare the cannons! All hands to stations! As her commands were related by her fellows to everyone across the ship, another thought struck her. And somebody rouse the Cap'n, eh?! Wouldn't want the old man missing out on a good hunt and chase. Several crewmen laughed even as more went about following her orders. She might not have been the Captain, but she ordered more things done than he did and she was quick to punish lollygaggers.

It wasn't too much longer before the black flag with its white cutlass hung above the mainmast, a solemn oath to seek, pillage, and destroy, and the other ship appeared on the horizon with only the gods knew what in her hull. Standing beside Bulwark, foot braced on a railing before it, her harpoon in hand, Yarba stared eagerly at the object of her attention, a battle lust bringing a wicked smile to her face.
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The Black Ocean · Sea Travel and the Islands

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