"Mason, get yer arse over here!" A brutish man comes running to the call of his captain, meeting her at the entrance of the ship, the Iron Tracker. He looks over to see two people, one a male and the other a female, both around their late teens.
"We making another run?" He asks cautiously, knowing that these were most likely mages thinking they're getting freedom.
"Aye, they be two lovers. Parents rejected them because magic. Load of horse shit I say! I bet the parents are mages themselves, but ain't have the balls ta say so." The lovers look around nervously as Kestrel and Mason talk.
"Um, excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt, but we must leave soon." The male speaks up.
Not even looking back at him Kestrel respond. "Fine! Fine! Mason get their arses up on the ship, I be gettin too sober, so watch them while I go to the tavern." She then looks to them, flashing a toothy yellow grin. "Don't ya worry laddies Mason will keep ya safe while I'm gone."
The pirate drags the lovers up, trepidation painting their faces, but Kestrel didn't care, she just started strolling away to find the closest tavern. What meant to be one turned to three, but rarely ever being sober turned her liver to steel and so her body was used to this amount of blood alcohol content. Whistling to herself, something caught her attention.
"Bets! Place your bets! Which pig shall win? Bet on which one and find out!" This caused the captain to burst out laughing. She's gambled on many unusual things, but racing pigs in the alleys of Connlaoth's capital defiantly ranks in the top ten. Approaching the man, Kestrel drops ten gold in his hand.
"I' have me bets on that one." She points to the spotted pig.
The man then announces. "Ten more gold for speckles!"