Spirits of the Earth

The Midnight Marauder had only been docked for a day, and already Elara was annoyed. Their rations were off, and food supply prices had skyrocketed.
It was pouring buckets of rain, the skies dark and grey, the sun unable to poke through. Elara and her crew had finally finished loading everything, the Midnight Marauder rocking back and forth gently, the creak of the wood and the swing of the pulleys causing a gentle almost lullaby when paired with the consistent sound of the rain.
Which was exactly opposite to how Elara was feeling. She was on edge. Their next merchant ship they were tracking had left a day early, meaning they would have to have a good wind at their backs if they were going to be able to intercept it.
The crew cast off, and the ship was finally on its way, the rain having let up alittle, the thunder and lightning stopping altogether.
Elara was out on deck, supervising the mid day cleaning and occasionally taking a mop herself and scrubbing the decks too.
Elara sighed, setting down the mop and resting on a barrel for a few minutes.
"Take an ease of work, mates! You've earned it!"

The dimly lit hideout echoed with the laughter and chatter of the Canary Crew, a bandit group known for their camaraderie and penchant for daring heists. In the heart of the hideout, Kael Torren, "New Dinny," lounged on a makeshift crate, his eyes gleaming with mischief as the crew discussed potential jobs.

"So, what's our next masterpiece, New Dinny?" chuckled Markus, a burly crew member with a thick beard, giving Kael a playful nudge.

Kael shot him a wry grin. "Masterpiece, Markus? I am the masterpiece. And I'll have you know my art is in the subtle nuances of larceny."

The crew erupted in laughter, and even Rata, their no-nonsense leader, couldn't suppress a smirk. "Subtle, huh? Just like that time you tried to convince the guards you were the city inspector," teased Spade, a nimble rogue with a penchant for mischief.

"Ah, but they'd never seen an inspector with such impeccable charm before," Kael retorted, running a hand through his disheveled hair with theatrical flair.

As the banter continued, Kael seized the opportunity to pitch his latest idea. "Alright, mates, hear me out. There's a ship docked at the harbor, and my gut tells me it's carrying a treasure worth more than all your mother's silverware."

The room fell momentarily silent as the crew turned their attention to Kael. Rata, their stoic leader, raised an eyebrow. "A ship, you say? What makes you think it's worth the risk?"

Kael leaned forward, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "A little birdie told me, Rata. A contact in the harbor mentioned some discreet cargo, something that might just fund our little escapades for months."

Rata's expression remained unreadable, his gaze piercing through Kael's confident façade. "And you're sure about this?"

Kael, ever unyielding, nodded. "Absolutely. It's got the right feel, the right vibe. This could be the score we've been waiting for."

The crew exchanged skeptical glances, but Kael's conviction began to sway them. Rata, after a contemplative pause, finally spoke. "It's a risk, Kael. Storms are brewing, and the sea's no place for half-baked plans."

Kael, undeterred, grinned. "Boss, have I ever steered you wrong?"

Rata sighed, his stern demeanor softening. "More times than I care to count, but there's a first for everything. If you think it's worth the risk, I won't stop you. But remember, we're not pirates. We take what we need, not more."

Kael saluted in mock obedience. "Captain Rata, you have my word. Just watch, this will be a heist for the ages."

As Kael prepared to leave the hideout, the crew resumed their banter, the gruff and playful atmosphere mirroring the duality of their bandit lives.

——

The storm raged with a furious intensity, the thunderous roar of crashing waves echoing through the darkened night. The churning sea churned beneath a tempestuous sky, where clouds twisted into ominous shapes, hiding the moon in an inky shroud. The wind, a relentless force, howled through the rigging of the ship, carrying with it the scent of salt and impending chaos.

In the midst of the tempest, Kael clung to the shadows. His silhouette, barely discernible against the backdrop of raging sea and looming storm clouds, crept along the docks of the harbor. The flickering lanterns of the few ships still anchored struggled to pierce through the inky grays, casting eerie shadows on the water.

His eyes, sharp and gleaming with the thrill of mischief, scanned the vessels bobbing menacingly in the tumultuous waters. Among them, a formidable ship, its hull creaking under the relentless assault of waves, caught his attention. Whispers of treasure and clandestine cargo had reached Kael's ears, igniting a spark of curiosity and larceny within him. With the storm as his ally, he saw an opportunity to slip onto the ship unnoticed.

The wood of the dock groaned beneath his cautious footsteps as Kael approached the chosen vessel. Rain, driven horizontally by the relentless gusts, pelted his form, but he moved with the fluid grace of a seasoned thief. His fingers danced over the hilt of his dagger, the cold metal a reassuring companion in the storm.

With cat-like agility, Kael ascended the creaking gangplank, every step masked by the symphony of crashing waves and howling wind. As he reached the deck, the ship groaned beneath the strain of the storm. The dim light of lanterns swung wildly, casting fleeting shadows across the soaked planks.

Through the relentless rain, Kael's keen eyes searched for the elusive treasure he believed awaited him. Barrels and crates adorned the deck, their contents obscured by sodden canvas. A flicker of frustration crossed his face as the storm muffled his efforts to discern the cargo.

Intent on his pursuit, Kael descended into the labyrinthine belly of the ship. The confined space resonated with the rhythmic thud of raindrops against the wooden structure. Shadows danced across stacked crates, each one a potential hiding place for untold riches.

Yet, as Kael's hands brushed against the rough surface of a particularly promising crate, an unexpected jolt ran through the ship. A deafening creak reverberated through the hull, drowning in the symphony of chaos outside. Panic tightened its grip on Kael as he realized the ship was departing, the anchor weighed against the relentless pull of the tempestuous sea.

His eyes widened with realization, and a momentary dread gripped him. The ship, once an unwitting sanctuary, now became a vessel of uncertainty, hurtling into the abyss of the storm-laden sea. Kael Torren, the audacious trickster, found himself ensnared in a situation beyond his control.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. "This is quite the pickle."

Kkärsvig the cook was in the belly of the ship, taking stock of all the crates. He whistled, his trusty skillet slung behind his back. Everything seemed good, so he turned to leave. But something wasn't right...he turned around and suspiciously looked near the back.
He blew out the light and slammed the door closed, making it seem as if he had left.
Then, he snuck behind the right wall, until he stopped at the back crates.
If Yunggdrïl was fooling around again...but imagine his suprise when he grabbed the guy and dragged him out of the inventory room and threw him into the hall.
It very much wasn't Yunggdrïl.
"Who the fuck are you?" Kkärsvïg growled, drawing the small chef knife out of the front of his apron.
"Explain yourself, mate. Elara doesn't take kindly to stowaways."

The ship's hull creaked and moaned in harmony with the storm as Kael found himself caught mid-sneak by a burly chef of sorts. The dim glow of the hall revealed the suspicious gaze of the ship's crew member fixed squarely on him.

Caught off guard, Kael straightened, his eyes flickering with a mix of confusion and innocence. "Oh, well, fancy meeting you here. This isn't where I parked my horse."

The sailor's stern expression was paired with a knife, prompting Kael to spin a wild yarn. "You see, I was at the tavern, minding my own business, when a mysterious cloaked figure slipped something into my drink. Next thing I know, I'm here, aboard this majestic vessel. Must've mistaken it for the ferry to the Isles of Bar-maidens."

With a theatrical bow and a sly wink, Kael concluded his story. "Well, my good sir, now that that's understood, I'll see myself out. Farewell to you and yours! May the sea be more forgiving than your face."

And then he turned on his heel and ran.

Kkärsvig just stood there, more amused than angry.
"Doors locked, mate. For situations such as these," he casually yelled after him.
"If you're innocent, then why do you run, eh?"

Kkärsvig shook his head and walked towards the stranger slowly.
"Either surrender, or I knock you out." He took his skillet off his back and twirled it in his hand.
"Believe me, you don't want a concussion, mate."

Kael's attempt to make a swift exit hit a snag as he reached the door, only to find it securely locked. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, realizing that his hasty escape plan had hit a minor setback. With a sheepish grin, he turned back to face the sailor, who eyed him with a mix of amusement and suspicion.

"Ah, you see, it's a tradition of mine. I always exit through the locked doors. Builds character," Kael quipped, tapping the door as if testing its sturdiness. "Besides, who needs keys when you've got charm and a dash of audacity?"

After a brief scan for another unlocked passage, Kael sighed playfully, raising his hands in surrender. "Fiiiine, take me to your leader. Maybe we can discuss unlocking doors as a team-building exercise for the crew."

Kkärsvig actually broke into a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"That's cute."
He roughly grabbed Kael's right arm and deftly unlocked the door with the other.
"I was just going to throw you in the brig but, you want to see the captain? You'll meet the captain."
He laughed and began walking, forcing Kael to walk with him.
"You obviously haven't met the captain..."
They went up a level, and Kkärsvig stopped before a door at the end of a hall.
Kkärsvig knocked on the door briskly.
"Captain!"
"One second," the captain said, walking to the door and opening it.
Her eyes looked at the stranger, before glancing at Kkärsvig.
"Who is this?" She asked flatly.
"Found him in the stock room, Captain, snooping around."
She took a step back and allowed them into the room, shutting the door behind them.
She brought a wooden chair and set it in front of the stranger.
Kkärsvig pushed him down into the chair, and Elara stared at the stranger.
"Stay there. Now," she said, pacing back and forth in front of him.
"State your name, occupation, and age. You cooperate, and maybe," she took a knife and flipped it from one hand to the other.
"Maybe I won't kill you."

As Kael entered the captain's quarters with an air of confident nonchalance (despite being forced), he found himself unexpectedly intercepted by a swift motion. Before he could react, a force propelled him onto a nearby chair, the impact eliciting an audible "oof" from his lips. As he rubbed his backside with a theatrical grimace, he finally focused on the person responsible for the unexpected seating arrangement. His eyes widened in surprise as he gazed upon her.

"You're the captain?" he blurted out with no restraint, but come on! The captain was a smoke show!

He cleared his throat, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the enchanting aura that surrounded her.

"Name's Dinny Hikaro, Captain," he lied, giving a subtle yet confident bow. "Occupation? Well, I'm what you might call a freelance adventurer. Jack of all trades, master of... well, a few. Age? Ah, that's a tricky one. Old enough to cause a ruckus, young enough to still enjoy it. But that's neither here nor there. As I was telling your fuzzy friend over there, this is all just a big misunderstanding!"

"Yes," she said, staring at him with suspicion. "I am the captain."
"You're definitely not a master of sneaking around."

"I go by Captain," she said shortly, not buying a word of what he was saying.
"People don't wander onto pirate ships by accident, Dinny, especially mine. Do you know why?" She asked, her eyes dangerously cold.
"Because they don't leave. Now, Tell me your occupation, because if you're not useful, it's a slit throat for you." And she pressed her knife against his throat.

As the captain pressed a sharp blade against Kael's throat, her eyes glinting with a dangerous intensity, he decided it was time to shed the facade. "Alright, Captain, I'll drop the theatrics. My real name is Kael Torren, I'm twenty-nine, and I'm a bandit," he admitted with a resigned yet defiant expression.

The chef raised an eyebrow, his grip on Kael's shoulder unyielding. "A bandit? You've got some nerve boarding the captain's ship."

Kael smirked, a glimmer of confidence breaking through. "Nerve is what I thrive on. And you should know, despite your impressive display just now, I happen to be quite adept at sneaking around and stealing." With a subtle movement, he revealed a small trinket – a gleaming medallion he had lifted from the ship's chef during their earlier exchange.

Elara put her blade away, believing him, but her eyes still cold.
"Aye, you dodged death. This time."
Kkärsvig, on the other hand, was mildly intrigued, his free hand going to his neck, where his medallion should be. Except it wasn't there. He growled and snatched back the medallion from Kael.
"I've a mind to beat you into next week for that," he grumbled, but inward, he was impressed.
Elara sat on her desk and studied Kael.
"What to do with you is the question," she surmised.
"Kkärsvig, throw him in the brig until tomorrow morning. It's getting late, and sea witches, I'm exhausted. Give him some food and water if he wants any."
She tried to act like she didn't care, but deep down she really did. She couldn't kill without reason. But she did keep a tight ship.
As Kkärsvig turned to take him to the brig, she held up her hand.
"Wait. Can you do anything else besides running around and stealing?"

Seated across from the captain in her quarters, Kael took a moment to assess the situation. The tension in the air hung palpable, the memory of the knife at his throat still fresh.

Leaning back with a nonchalant ease, he decided it was time to showcase more than just his knack for sneaking and stealing. "Captain, my talents go beyond the realm of nimble fingers and elusive footsteps," he began, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I have a knack for navigating intricate situations. I can talk my way out of a dungeon as easily as i can talk my way into a woman's heart."

The chef arched an eyebrow, cutting in once more. "Smooth talker, huh? That's your grand skill?"

Kael chuckled, "Smooth as silk. But that's not all. I can assess a situation in seconds, devise plans on the fly, and I'm not too shabby with a blade when it comes down to it." He paused, letting the words linger before a sly smile curled on his lips. "I've got the power of flame," he continued, sparks and smoke igniting from his fingertips, "and I'm pretty easy on the eyes, don't ya think?"

He turned to the chef, handing him the medallion that he stole from under his nose a second time undetected.

Elara listened to Kael list his assets.
"Not this dungeon," Elara muttered to herself. Purely because there was an actual dedicated space for the brig. The entire room was iron, the prisoners would get food once a day. The one guard posted outside of the room is a dark elf.
"If everything you're claiming is true...then that is most impressive."
She stood up off of her desk.
Kael was a rather attractive man, but she was not going to admit that to him. She had an image she had to keep.
Smooth talk into a woman's heart...yeah we shall see, she thought to herself, before shaking herself out of her thoughts.
"Take Mr. "Smooth talk" to the brig, Kkärsvig."
Kkärsvig nodded and gripped Kael's arm once more, pulling him up out of the seat and leaving the captain's quarters.
She couldn't have a stowaway just running about the ship.
Kkärsvig took Kael to the lowest level of the ship, which consisted of the brig and the guard quarters.
The assigned guard, the aforementioned dark elf, stood up from his chair and unlocked the heavy solid metal door.
Inside the brig were 4 hammocks and not much else. It was magically ventilated.
Kkärsvig pushed Kael inside and closed the door.
"I'll be back for you in the morning...maybe..."

Kael's world turned to iron as the ship's brig door slammed shut behind him. The dull clang echoed in the confined space, signaling the beginning of his temporary confinement. The cramped cell smelled of salt, mildew, and an undeniable sense of confinement.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, noting the bare essentials—a few hammocks swaying gently from the ship's movement. A sardonic smirk played on Kael's lips as he muttered to himself, "How thoughtful of them to provide such luxurious accommodations."

With an air of casual nonchalance, he strolled towards the nearest hammock and swung himself into it. The rough fabric cradled him, offering a temporary respite from the cold, hard bars of the cell. Time seemed to crawl, and boredom crept in like a persistent shadow.

As minutes stretched into an eternity, Kael's eyes wandered to the solitary figure stationed outside the cell—a Dark Elf guard with an expression as impassive as obsidian. With nothing to lose and a penchant for mischief, Kael cleared his throat and directed a sly grin toward the guardian of his temporary prison.

"Hey, buddy!" he called, his voice echoing off the cell walls. "Ever hear the call of the sea in a song?"

The Dark Elf raised a single eyebrow, acknowledging Kael's attempt at engagement. Kael continued, his tone feigning innocence, "You know, I've got a voice that can rival the waves themselves. Fancy a duet, my friend? A song of the sea, to pass the time. What do you say?"


As the song reached its crescendo, Kael cast a sideways glance at the guard, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Your turn, my friend. Show me what the ocean whispers to you in the still of the night."

The dark elf, whose name was Azarion, stood up and walked over to the cell, an eyebrow raised in interest, but not saying much else.
He listened to the song Kael sung, and when it was over, there was a smile in his eyes.
"Well sung, but, I regret to say, I don't sing...my name is Azarion."
He leaned upon the bars of the cell.
"What'd you get thrown in here for?" The elf stared at Kael for a second.
"In fact, you don't look familiar...you try to hitch a ride somewhere? Elara must like you, normally the stowaways are executed on the spot."
Azarion, realizing he's said more than he probably should have, turns away from the cell once more, resuming his stoic demeanor.

The brig's metallic bars cast shadows on Kael as he lounged in his hammock, eyeing the Dark Elf guard stationed outside. With a sly grin, he decided to break the monotony and engage in some banter.

"Alright then, Azarion! You really want to know why I'm in here?" Kael called out, his voice echoing through the dimly lit brig.

The guard glanced over, his expression impassive. "Enlighten me," he responded curtly.

Kael chuckled. "Well, you see, it all started when I went for a couple of trinkets that didn't technically belong to me. The Captain, bless her heart, thought I needed a cozy spot to reflect on my life choices."

The Dark Elf's stern demeanor softened for a moment, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "So, you're a thief."

Kael leaned back in his hammock, grinning. "More of a liberator of unclaimed treasures, if you will. And let me tell you, our dear Captain? Big ol' softy on the inside. Swore she saw potential in me."

The guard raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Potential for what?"

Kael winked. "That's the million-gold question, my friend."

The banter continued until Kael abruptly sat up, looking at the guard with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Wait, you don't sing? Come on! Let's get some drinks in you, and you'll be singing sea shanties in no time!"

Fast forward to later that night, and the brig was filled with the clinking of bottles and the boisterous laughter of an unlikely duo. Kael and the Dark Elf, both seated on opposite sides of the bars, swayed to the rhythm of an impromptu sea shanty.

The atmosphere transformed from a dreary cell to a makeshift tavern, complete with raucous singing and the clinking of glasses. The guard, having shed his stoic demeanor, joined Kael in an unexpected camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of captor and captive.

As the night wore on, the drinking and revelry reached a crescendo. By the time the first rays of dawn painted the horizon, the once-sober guard and Kael were both sprawled behind the cell, passed out in a heap of camaraderie and empty bottles.

Elara's morning was going well.

They were on track to overtake the merchant ship tomorrow. The crew was in high spirits. Everything was going great. Until that damned Kael had to pick her ship to try to steal from. Gods she couldn't stop thinking about him.
This was stupid.
She got up from her desk and walked to the galley.
Kkärsvig was busy, frying fish for the crew's breakfast that morning.
"Ah, Elara, come to sample the food, aye?" He asked, midway through slicing a particularly strong onion.
"Not this morning, I'm afraid."
He set down the half cut onion, wiping off the knife on his leather apron.
"What is it?"
"What do I do with Kael? I can't...I can't bring myself to kill him."
Kkärsvig's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Awww does the tough Captain have a crush?"
Elara angrily cleared her throat.
"NO! Absolutely—absolutely not!" She denied, blushing furiously.

Kkärsvig plated some food and handed it to Elara.
"Here, go give this to Kael. Gives you an excuse to go down there."
Elara opened her mouth and closed it.
"It's—it's not like that!"
Kkärsvig merely laughed, pushing her out of the galley.
"It is like that, and you know it. Now out of my galley!" And Kkärsvig slammed the door.

Meanwhile, Azarion had a massive headache. Where was he? No...he had gotten drunk?!!? How did that happen?
Oh. Kael happened that's what.
He wasn't even angry. Just amused.
He sat up, and groaned. His back hurt. His head hurt.
"Ugh..."
He could hear footsteps making their way to the brig. Oh no. He could lose his job, he could lose his life if Elara was feeling like it. He frantically shook Kael.
"Kael Kael you gotta wake up!"

"Not now, mommy, I was just having the best dream about a beautiful ship captain and-"

Kael was stirred awake by a jarring clatter, the sound echoing through the brig like the clash of cymbals in a drunken symphony. Groaning, he squinted against the harsh light that seemed to pierce through his throbbing skull.

The Dark Elf guard, equally worse for wear, sat beside him, holding a metal bucket filled with water. "We have to get up" the guard grumbled, his voice a gravelly echo.

Kael winced at the noise, trying to piece together the foggy remnants of the night before. The sight of empty bottles strewn around him and the guard brought a sheepish grin to his face. "Ah, morning rituals. You, my friend, have the worst worst timing. I was about to get lucky."

The guard ignored the comment, unceremoniously tipping the bucket over Kael's head. Cold water cascaded down, sending an electric shock through his hungover senses. Spluttering and sputtering, Kael shot up, dripping wet and more awake than he'd ever been.

"You'll thank me later," the Dark Elf deadpanned, tossing a dry cloth at Kael.

Rubbing his head and eyeing the bucket with disdain, Kael attempted to regain some semblance of dignity. "Very generous of him," he muttered, wringing out the cloth. "You know, for a guard, you've got an odd sense of camaraderie. Shouldn't you be poking me with a stick or something?"

The Dark Elf raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Just get yourself together. The Captain is coming."

As Kael gingerly rose, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Right, right. Let's not keep the big ol' softy waiting. But seriously, next time, let's opt for a more civilized wake-up call. Singing, perhaps?"

Elara walked into the brig, completely unprepared for what she was about to see.
"I have a proposition for—-what the fuck?"
There were bottles everywhere. Elara didn't even know the ship saloon had that many bottles.
And there was Kael and Azarion, both severely hungover and Kael was drenched.
Elara wordlessly sat the food she had brought for Kael and desperately fought to keep a stern facade.
She grabbed Azarion by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the floor.
"Do ye know what the penalty for associating with the prisoners—much less getting drunk with the prisoners is? I ought to slit your throat right here, and let Kael watch. This is pathetic. Not to mention irresponsible. He could have escaped the brig, done who knows how much damage to the rest of the ship!"
"Go get cleaned up," she ordered, and let Azarion go.
She set down the tray of food in front of Kael.
"I had a proposition for you but I'll wait until you're fully sober."

Kael was up on his feet and sauntered over the cell bars, a sly grin playing on his face, as the woman eyed him.

"Captain, my esteemed leader," Kael began, holding up a hand as if taking an oath, "I assure you, I'm completely and utterly sober. Not a drop of the good stuff has passed these lips since last night's... festivities." He punctuated his words with an exaggerated salute. "I'm merely in a state of unparalleled enlightenment, heightened by the crisp morning air."

Leaning in with a conspiratorial wink, Kael whispered, "Now, Captain Softy, about our dear Elf friend," he started, already forgetting his name completely. "Just go easy on the on the guy. He's not as grumpy as he looks, really. Just tell the crew I'm a bad influence, and I'll make it up to them with a stellar performance tonight. Promise. Now, what's this about a proposition? Fallen for me already?"

"Shut up and eat your goddamn food," Elara grumbled, the slightest dusting of a blush on her cheeks.
"I've got things to do. I've wasted enough time. Tomorrow we'll be attacking a merchant ship...you can either help or stay here in the brig until we get to a port."

Kael eagerly dug into the meal, savoring the aroma that had filled the air. The first bite brought a momentary expression of delight to his face, but as he continued chewing, a dubious look crept in. Eventually, with his cheeks stuffed, he glanced over at Captain Elara with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Captain, this is... uh, quite awful. Did you whip this up yourself? Perhaps I could impart a few culinary pearls of wisdom to elevate our onboard cuisine. What do you say?" He finished the sentence with a cheeky grin.

But his real thoughts were around the merchant ship. Why would someone like her attack a simple merchant ship? They were pirates, sure, but..

Wait. Did she say he could help? Was he actually getting on her on good side?

Elara shook her head.
"No, I most definitely did not make that. Kkärsvig made it."
She turned and walked to the door.
"Finish up your food. I'll be back in an hour."
Then she slammed the door.

Elara's quarters

Kkärsvig paced in front of Elara's desk, Elara seated behind it with her legs propped up on the desk.

"That merchant ship...it's not a merchant ship. It's a cover for a smugglers operation. So, my plan," and Elara picked up a knife from her desk, "is to just sail alongside them. In broad daylight. Board, steal the spice they're smuggling, go to Essyrn, and sell it ourselves. We'll make so much money off of this one ship."
She twirled the knife around in her hand and flicked it at the wall, the knife embedding into the wall with a thunk.

Kkärsvig stopped pacing and looked at her.
"In broad daylight. Are you insane? Two fish short of the lake? They're probably not alone! That's why they left early, I'll wager! To meet up with an escort. Who knows, the Essyrni government could be escorting them!"
He walked over to the knife Elara had thrown into the wall and yanked it out.
"You're insane."

Elara laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"That's why my plans work."

Kkärsvig sighed, walking up to the desk and stabbing the knife into it.
"Someday you're going to attack something that will bite back and ruin you."

Nevertheless, he sighed, walking to the door.
"I'll get the crew ready."

In the brig
Azarion came back, bringing a fresh set of clothes for Kael.
"Figured since your old ones are soaked you might want dry ones. He opened the cell, and gestured for Kael to come out.
"You don't need to stay in there, I don't care what Elara says. Oh! And we're attacking a ship soon. Do you have any weapons? You'll need them."

Azarion set the dry clothes on the table and walked towards the door.
"I have to go get the boarding crew ready. But Elara will be down soon."
He smiled and left, shutting the door behind him.

As Kael glanced at the clothes left by Azarion, a sarcastic smirk played on his lips. "How thoughtful," he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with irony. The garments were far from his usual attire, but the prospect of being dry outweighed his reservations. With a shrug, he began to undress, peeling off his damp clothes and tossing them aside.

The new ensemble consisted of a billowy white shirt with intricate lace detailing, reminiscent of the shirts worn by swashbuckling pirates of old. A dark vest adorned with brass buttons cinched at his waist, adding a touch of rugged charm to the ensemble. Trousers of deep navy hugged his legs, tucked into sturdy leather boots that spoke of adventure and daring escapades on the high seas.

Completing the look was a weathered leather belt, adorned with various pouches and pockets, hinting at a life lived on the edge of civilization. As he fastened the belt around his waist, Kael couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of the unknown adventures that lay ahead. With a final adjustment of his attire, he straightened up and surveyed his reflection in the mirror, nodding in approval at the transformation.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Kael couldn't resist the opportunity to inject a bit of humor into the situation. As he heard footsteps approaching the door, he quickly adopted a playful pose, dropping to one knee and clasping his hands together as if about to propose marriage. Suppressing a grin, he fixed his gaze on the door, eagerly awaiting Captain Elara's arrival.

Captain Elara, meanwhile, was not expecting the hilarious sight that awaited her when she opened the door.
There was Kael, apparently sober and on one knee as if he was proposing...to who was the question.
She stopped short, one eyebrow raised, her arms folded.
"How did you get out of your cell?...You and Azarion must have realllllyy got drunk," she dryly commented.
"Hate to disappoint you, but Azarion doesn't swing that way," Elara said, smirking because she knew full well internally what he was doing.

"Anyways, we're boarding merchant ship soon. I honestly can't prevent you from doing anything."
She rubbed her eyes then sighed.
"Just...don't kill my men and don't be an idiot. You've drank with Azarion, so whether you like it or not, you're apart of the crew now. You might as well come topside."
And she turned and left.

Feeling a pang of rejection, Kael's face contorts into a melodramatic expression of mock hurt, complete with a hand over his heart and a theatrical sigh. "Oh, Captain, you wound me!" he exclaims, pretending to clutch at an imaginary injury. But in the next moment, his playful facade crumbles, replaced by a determined grin as he hops back up to his feet, eager to prove himself.

"But fear not, fair Captain, for I am not so easily discouraged! Lead the way, and I shall follow you to the ends of the earth!" With an exaggerated flourish, he falls into step beside her, his strides quick and purposeful. As they walk, Kael leans in with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "By the way, you dropped this." With a daring grin, he held out his hand in a ball as to give her something, but instead slipped his hand into hers.

He might actually die for that one.

The nerve of this man! Didn't he know who she was?!?!?!
Her face flushed red, and she awkwardly cleared her throat, her gaze traveling down to where his hand was holding hers.

"You can't just-I mean-" she stumbled over her words, and then gave up trying to speak altogether.

"If you do this in front of the crew I'm gonna kill you. In your sleep." She mumbled.
But she let him continue holding her hand.

Now's my chance!

Kael, feeling brave and excited, decides to test the waters with the captain. With a confident grin, he gently twirls her around before moving her back to the wall. He leans in close, his hand resting against the wall beside her face. "Now, Captain, before we jump into action, shouldn't we take a moment to get to know each other better?"

What if the crew sees?
What if Kkärsvig sees? Oh heaven forbid, he'd never let her hear the end of it.
Her train of thought was interrupted by suddenly finding the wall that was away from her now up against her back, and Kael leaning in close to her, his hand on the wall.
Her heart felt like it couldn't beat a steady rhythm, it was all over the place. She reached her hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind Kael's ear. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked into his eyes.
"It's just—I-we don't have a lot of time," she was trying to come up with a stupid excuse.

Kael's smile was genuine, a rare sight amidst the playful banter. Despite the flirtation, a flicker of seriousness danced in his eyes. He reminded himself of the task at hand, the need to find a way off the ship he had attempted to rob - not to fall for some pirate with pretty eyes. Yet, he couldn't resist a little playful exchange. "Well, Captain," his voice lowered to a near whisper as he leaned in even closer, their breaths mingling and their lips almost touching, "shall we?"

The sudden shift in demeanor was jarring to say the least, and Kael pulled away with a mischievous grin. "Come along then, Captain," he called over his shoulder as he paced away, a playful swagger in his step. "Can't keep the crew waiting. You know how they get when left to their own devices. Playing grab ass and what not." He glanced back, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, before disappearing around the corner.

He seemed about to kiss her and then he just left! Threw a flirty comment her way and was gone!
"What-NO!" She regained her composure and stalked after him.
"You were the one who got the brig guard drunk and did who knows what all night long!" She teased.
"So if anyone's playing grab ass it's you, Mr. Smooth talk." She followed him around the corner.
"The deck is the other way, smart-ass."

As Kael caught up with Captain Elara, a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. "I knew that," he quipped with a playful smirk. Before she could respond, he leaned in to steal a quick kiss on her cheek, his lips grazing her skin with a teasing warmth. "Don't worry, Captain," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I only have eyes for you."

As Kael strode onto the deck, his movements brimming with confidence and a hint of theatrical flair, the crew turned their attention to him, their eyes wide with curiosity. With a sweeping gesture, he raised his hand to silence the murmurs that rippled through the ranks.

"Ahoy, me hearties!" he boomed, his voice carrying across the deck with a dramatic flourish. "I see we've set sail upon the high seas once more, bound for adventure and fortune!"

The crew exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of this unexpected turn of events, but Kael pressed on, undeterred by their skepticism.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," he continued, pacing back and forth with an air of authority. "Who is this ridiculously handsome stranger who has appeared amongst ye, clad in finery and mischief? Fear not, for I am but a humble soul, a traveler of the seven seas, a seeker of treasures untold!"

A ripple of laughter spread through the crew, their initial apprehension giving way to amusement at Kael's charismatic theatrics.

"But enough about me!" he exclaimed, his eyes alight with fervor. "We've got a ship to run, a crew to rally, and adventures to embark upon! So, me hearties, hoist the sails, raise the anchor, and let's set a course for glory!"

He just...he just kissed her and then strode out onto the deck, as confident as could be!
Kkärsvig tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around, her face paling when she realized he saw everything.
"I saw that!" He laughed and pointed at Kael.
"Mate seduced you so fast! I've never seen this before! Who knew? Elara's a softie!"
Kael was doing...Kael things, talking to the rough crew who shockingly enough, was paying attention.
"He's gonna steal my crew right out from under me," Elara complained to Kkärsvig.
Regaining her rough demeanor, she walked out onto the deck, and the scattered laughter and the occasional jeer from the crew at Kael's antics died down.
"Listen up!" She yelled, climbing up on a crate.
"This ship probably has escorts...maybe government ones, but," and she held up a hand, for the crew exchanged glances at that, "we've got the fastest ship on the seas of Le'Raana. We'll ram the ship, board, steal the spice, and hightail it out. Savvy? This is a quick job. We rush in, we rush out. That's all. To your stations!" And with that, the crew gave a cheer and scattered, Elara going up to the ship's wheel to direct.
"You coming?" She nudged Kael.

As Kael's words swirled around the deck, weaving a tapestry of camaraderie and purpose among the crew, he felt a swell of pride in his chest. For a moment, it seemed as though he had succeeded in rallying their spirits, igniting a spark of determination in each of their hearts. Huzzah! What a day!

But just as he basked in the glow of his accomplishment, Elara's commanding voice cut through the air, interrupting his reverie. His eyebrows furrowed in feigned indignation, and he placed his hands firmly on his hips, turning to face her with a mock scowl.

"Ma'am," he began, his tone dripping with mock seriousness, "I'll ask you not to interrupt me while I'm addressing my crew."

A playful glint danced in his eyes as he let the facade slip, replacing the frown with a mischievous smile. "Just kidding," he added, his voice laced with amusement. "Let's go. What can I do for ya, boss?"

Elara whirled on him because for a second, she thought he was serious. But then she saw that he was joking and relaxed some.
"Oh cry me a river and build me a bridge to get over it," she teased, walking up to the ship's wheel.
"Maybe, if you don't start a mutiny and behave, maaaaybe I'll let you steer the ship," she said, taking out a compass and studying it before slowly turning the ship's wheel.
"10 degrees west," she mused.
"Lower the main sail!" She shouted, turning the wheel a very slight amount.

As Kael observed Captain Elara expertly guiding the ship through the tumultuous waters, a sense of awe washed over him. Her skill and confidence were undeniable, and he found himself momentarily lost for words as he watched her command the vessel with ease.

With a charming grin, Kael stepped closer to Elara, unable to resist the urge to flirt even in the midst of his admiration. "You know," he began, his voice low and playful, "I've never seen anyone handle a ship quite like you do. It's almost as if you were born to be a pirate captain."

His gaze lingered on her, a mixture of admiration and curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Tell me, Captain," he continued, his tone sincere, "how did you come to be the fearless leader of this crew? I'm dying to know the story behind the legend."

"Well," she said finally, after being silent for a moment, "my parents were explorers...they'd explore Hyoite and the Kilanthro Mountains. Well...they—and me-were magic users...elemental variety. At the top of one of the tallest mountain peaks, mom and dad tried to get me to open a portal...it didn't work. I couldn't keep it open long enough. They perished that day. And I haven't used my magic since." She stared off into the distance, her eyes haunted with the regret of that day that was long ago. She cleared her throat.
"After that...well...I distracted myself as much as possible."

"There's not much of a legend, really...I found a ship...slowly built a crew, and we prey on the seas, causing chaos and seeking adventure..."
Why she was being so open with a man she practically just met yesterday, she had no clue.
She shook her head, changing the subject.
"Speaking of adventure, there's our target now." And she pointed off to the horizon, where a ship could be seen.

Kael listened intently to Elara's story, his expression thoughtful as he absorbed the weight of her words. He felt a pang of sympathy for her loss, understanding all too well the pain of losing loved ones. However, he chose not to comment on her backstory, instead opting to offer her a reassuring smile.

As Elara changed the subject to the ship on the horizon, Kael's gaze followed her pointing finger, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the situation. He could sense the tension in the air, the anticipation of what was to come.

"I'm more of a lover than a fighter," he remarked with a playful smirk, "but I'll do what needs doing if it means I can buy you coffee sometime."

Coffee? No no no, what she needed was a nice glass of rum.
She glanced at Kael.
"If it's a glass of rum, I might take you up on that offer, mate."
 Maybe after. The ship was fast approaching, and the boarding party was already lined up on the side of the Midnight Marauder, grappling hooks at the ready. The other ship was quiet. Probably because they weren't expecting a pirate ship to just attack in the middle of the day.
"Prepare for impact!" Elara yelled, and the blade on the front of the Midnight Marauder rammed into the side, disabling the other ship. The loud impact of the ships colliding and the sound of splintering wood and snapping rope could be heard, followed by a cry of alarm from the other ship's watchman.
The ships drew alongside each other, and the attack began.
Elara's eyes glinted with the excitement of the attack, and she jumped down to the main deck, running and grabbing a rope and swinging to the other ship. Much of the battle was taking place below deck, but Elara wanted to take care of that pesky watchman that was in the crow's nest. If it wasn't for him, they could have really suprised that ship. She started to climb up to the crows nest. The watchman had seen her start to climb up, and had slid down and was perched halfway up, sword drawn and ready to fight.

"Oh, come now, Captain," he replied with a grin, "surely a delicate flower such as yourself-"

He couldn't finish his sentence before the attack happened. Shit. This was real.

As chaos erupted around him, Kael found himself thrust into the midst of a battle he hadn't anticipated. The clash of wood against wood reverberated through the air as the two ships collided, sending shockwaves of adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a quick glance at the captain, who was barking orders with fierce determination, Kael knew he had to act - despite not wanting to. However, he wanted to live to see another day.

Bounding across the deck, he let out a playful war cry, "Yipee Ki-Yay!", his words lost amidst the cacophony of shouts and clashes. Joining the fray alongside his newfound comrades, he brandished his weapon with a mix of determination and apprehension. Yet, as he made his way below deck, his heart sank at the sight before him.

In the dimly lit confines of the ship's belly, he stumbled upon a family huddled together, their fear palpable in the air. The father's eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld the sight of a pirate coming to their aid. "Who are you? What do you want?" he stammered, his voice trembling with fear and confusion.

Kael raised his hands in a placating gesture, offering a reassuring smile despite the chaos unfolding around them. "I know this may seem strange, but I'm here to help," he said calmly, his voice steady and reassuring. "There's no time to explain, but we need to get you to safety. Follow me."

With a mixture of reluctance and desperation, the family followed Kael as he led them through the maze-like corridors of the ship. Their footsteps echoed loudly against the wooden planks, each sound a stark reminder of the danger lurking just outside. As they reached a secure room tucked away from the chaos, Kael turned to face them, his gaze unwavering.

"Stay here," he instructed firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'll come back for you as soon as I can. There are lifeboats on the deck above. I'll take you there once it's safe."

Elara met the watchman halfway.
"Surrender, or it's a long drop to the deck below."
The watchman merely swung his sword at Elara, who dodged it.
"You do know," and she parried another swing, "that fighting with a knife is easier when you have to cling with one hand, aye?"
She could tell this guy wasn't a fighter.
She was merely on the defensive at this point, almost lazily deflecting his slashes.
Then she saw an opening, and she disarmed him, his sword falling all the way to the deck.
She shrugged.
"Better luck next time," and she disappeared, sliding down a rope to drop to the deck.
Elara ran to the hatch that let to below deck and dropped in, landing in harsh fighting and narrowly dodging a knife to the face.
The ship was listing to one side. Elara knew they had to move fast.
She ran, looking in rooms, looking for the crates that held the spice. A cry sounded from above.
"Essyrni ships!"
The last door opened to reveal at least 10 crates, and she grabbed one, leaving some of her other crew to grab the others.
The opposing surviving crew had been hurriedly herded onto lifeboats, and with their coveted cargo the pirates left the sinking ship, Elara making sure all of her crew was safely back on the Marauder.
 Then she looked around.
"Where is Kael?"

As Kael raced through the labyrinthine corridors of the sinking ship, panic clawed at his chest with each step. The once steady rhythm of the vessel's movements had become erratic, and the oppressive weight of impending doom hung heavy in the air. He knew he had to act fast if he was going to keep his promise to the family he had sworn to protect.

Reaching the secure room where he had left them, Kael found the family huddled together, their eyes wide with fear as they heard the ominous creaking of the ship's hull. Without hesitation, he ushered them towards the lifeboats, his heart pounding with a mixture of urgency and determination.

As they emerged onto the deck, Kael's gaze swept across the chaos unfolding around them. The lifeboats bobbed in the tumultuous sea, their only hope of escape from the sinking vessel. With a steely resolve, Kael helped the family into one of the boats, ensuring they were safely aboard before turning to face the Midnight Marauder looming in the distance.

The gap between the two ships seemed insurmountable, but Kael knew he had to reach Elara's vessel if he was going to have any chance of survival. Summoning every ounce of strength and agility, he braced himself for the daring leap ahead.

With a deep breath, Kael launched himself from the sinking ship, his muscles straining as he soared through the air towards the Midnight Marauder. For a heart-stopping moment, it felt as though time had frozen, the distance between them stretching impossibly far.

But then, with a surge of adrenaline-fueled determination, Kael's fingers brushed against the rough wooden planks of the pirate ship, and he pulled himself aboard with a triumphant grunt. He stumbled slightly as he regained his footing, his chest heaving with exertion as he surveyed his surroundings.

However, his moment of relief was short-lived as he noticed a shadowy figure lurking nearby, a glint of steel flashing in the dim light. Someone had snuck on board and planned to plunk his blade into the Captain's back. Without a second thought, Kael lunged forward, tackling the intruder to the ground with a fierce determination. The two men grappled furiously, the sound of their struggle echoing across the deck as Kael fought to disarm him.

And they both rolled dangerously close to the edge of the ship.

There was Kael, jumping across the widening gap between the two ships like a madman.
Miraculously, he made it. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and turned to survey the loot.
Then she heard fighting. Or, rather, wrestling. She turned, and a man she didn't recognize and Kael were fighting.
She drew her sword and started towards them. 

The wannabe assailant of Elara desperately fought for control against Kael, locking his legs around Kael's and rolling so he was on top, and tried to pin Kael to the deck.

Amidst the chaos of the battle, Kael found himself locked in a tense struggle with the intruder from the merchant ship. The man's grip was strong, his blade dangerously close to Kael's throat as they grappled on the deck. "A little help, captain?" Kael called out, his voice strained as he tried to fend off his attacker.

With a quick maneuver, Kael managed to twist away from the blade, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for an opening. Spotting an opportunity, he aimed a swift kick between the man's legs, causing him to double over in pain. Taking advantage of the distraction, Kael shoved him away, regaining his footing as he put distance between them. "Calm your tits, soldier!"

Elara attacked the guy as soon as she saw an opening, slashing at his leg and landing a deep cut, causing the guy to fall to the deck.
She immediately ran over to Kael.
"Are you hurt?"

Breathless and adrenaline coursing through his veins, Kael collapsed onto his rear with a thud, a mixture of relief and exhaustion washing over him. With a playful grin, he looked up at Captain Elara, his eyes a bit more weary due the chaos around them.

"Oh, Captain, I didn't know you cared so much about me" he quipped, a hint of flirtation lacing his words. "But don't worry about me, just a few scratches to the old ego." He flashed her a charming smile, his heart still racing from the adrenaline-fueled skirmish. "Besides, I've had worse encounters with angry barmaids."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Kael couldn't resist injecting a bit of levity into the moment, his quick wit serving as a coping mechanism in the face of danger. But as he caught his breath and surveyed the scene before him, he knew that their ordeal was far from over.

The Essyrini ships were approaching.

"I care the same about my whole crew," she excused, her regular demeanor quickly falling into place.
No casualties on Elara's side...so far...a cannonball flew through the air and crashed into the water, alerting Elara to the Essyrni ships.
"Man the cannons!" Elara yelled, the quick peace shattering into absolute chaos.
"Aim for the sails and the mast!" She yelled, getting up and running to the side of the ship, crouching down and looking at the ships.
But then, they seemed to realize that there were lifeboats in the water with occupants, and after sending one last cannonball flying over the Midnight Marauder, they turned back, not wanting to endanger the people on the lifeboats.
The Marauder made a fast escape, leaving the Essyrni ships in the distance.

Elara began inspecting the crates.
She didn't recognize the substance in the crates...Kkärsvig came over and took one look in the crates and whistled.

"No wonder that ship had escorts..." and he leaned in to Elara and lowered his voice so only she could hear and whispered what the substance was.
A smile spread on her face. She began laughing.
"We're rich! The whole crew! Chart a course for Essyrn, we've got money to make."
She got the entire crew's attention.
"Mates, with this haul we could retire right now and be good for the rest of our lives!"
"I'll drink to that!" Azarion shouted, and the rest of the crew gave a rousing cheer.
"To the ship tavern then!"

"We're rich!" they had said.

...Really?

What exactly was this substance?

Kael's mind raced with the possibilities as he listened intently to the conversation unfolding before him. Riches, hidden treasures, the promise of untold wealth—it was everything he had ever dreamed of. His heart pounded with excitement, but he knew better than to let his emotions get the better of him. He had learned long ago the importance of keeping a cool head in situations like these, of not revealing his hand too soon.

So, he swallowed his excitement, pushing aside the thoughts of wealth and fortune for the time being. There would be plenty of time to explore those possibilities later, once he had a chance to sift through the information and formulate a plan. For now, he focused on the present, on the camaraderie of the crew he had seemingly unwillingly joined.

With a grin, Kael joined in the celebration, throwing an arm around Elara's shoulders as if they were suddenly a couple. He cheered alongside the other pirates, his voice ringing out in jubilation as he echoed their words.

"To the tavern! I'll drink all of you under the table! First one there gets to kiss the Captain!"

"First one there gets to kiss the Captain!"
"Not if I get there first," she protested, and then turned and ran for the tavern.

"Well she sure scoot the boot in a hurry, aye mates?" Kael quipped to Elara's crew, who now regarded him firmly as a madman. "Pardon me, gentlemen!"

And the race began!

Elara darted through the narrow corridors of the ship, Kael hot on her heels. Despite her speed, he managed to close the gap, his agile form overtaking hers with surprising ease. Perhaps he was faster, or perhaps he really wanted that kiss. Soon, he was whipped around, jogging backward with a mischievous smile as he kept the pace ahead of her.

"Is the Captain ticklish?" he teased, his hands reaching out to threaten her with tickles.

How did-Kael was fast, she had to give him credit for that.
And he asked if she was ticklish, and she scowled.
"Do you really want to find out?" She challenged.

As they continued their playful chase through the ship, Kael's eyes caught sight of an open door to a nearby storage closet. Without hesitation, he seized the opportunity and veered towards it, his hand darting out to grab Elara's as he pulled her into the dimly lit room. The door closed behind them with a soft click, enveloping them in darkness save for the faint glow of a lantern in the corner.

In the confined space, Kael could feel the warmth of Elara's breath against his skin, their proximity heightening the tension between them. For a moment, they stood in silence, the sound of their racing hearts echoing in the small room, followed by passing footsteps of Elara's crew as they made their way to the tavern.

"The captain's lips will be mine first!" one of her crew members declared, their footsteps growing distant as they rushed away.

"We'll see about that," Kael mused inwardly, his fingers gently caressing her cheek as he leaned in to capture her lips in his own kiss.

Elara suddenly found herself pulled into a small, mostly dark supply closet. She
wasn't used to men flirting like this, normally as soon as they found out she was a captain they would run the other way.
"Alls fair in love and war," she breathed, and then met him halfway, kissing him aggressively.

Beneath Captain Elara's sturdy demeanor, Kael discovered a surprising softness. His hands wandered from her face to explore further, drawing her closer in a gentle embrace. Breaking away from their fervent kiss, he let his lips trail across her skin, lingering on her neck with eager affection.

"Thank you for saving me back there" he said between kisses, his desire mounting with each tender touch. "How much time do we have? Will your men come looking for us?"

"gods no, I didn't even know this supply closet was here. They'll all start drinking and forget," she said breathlessly, kissing him again.

In that moment, Kael teetered on the brink of losing himself to Elara's allure. She embodied everything he desired in a woman: beauty, confidence, bravery, sensuality. Yet amidst the intoxicating whirlwind of her presence, a sobering reality tugged at his thoughts. He found himself on a distant ship, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and uncertain allegiances. He couldn't predict their ambitions, their depths of loyalty, or their thresholds for betrayal. Money, survival—these drove him as much as desire did. And if he surrendered too much of himself to Elara, she might just see right through him.

So he decided to play it cool.

After savoring another kiss, Kael withdrew, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Sorry, Captain," he teased, "but a little mystery keeps things interesting."

With a playful wink, he swung the door open and sauntered out, catching the eye of a crew member ahead. "Seems I've lost my way, lads! Lead on!" he called, seamlessly blending back into the bustling energy of the ship.

Elara shook herself out of the haze she was in. And then Kael disappeared.
She made her way to the tavern and grabbed a bottle of rum, raising it to cheer to their success and then sitting at a table in the back.

The ship's tavern was alive with the raucous laughter and hearty cheers of the crew as they celebrated another successful raid. Kael found himself right in the thick of it, surrounded by rowdy pirates who clapped him on the back and passed around tankards of ale. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, rum, and tobacco smoke, but Kael felt right at home amidst the chaos.

He took a shot of whiskey, relishing the burn as it traveled down his throat, then turned to the dark elf who stood hesitantly at the edge of the crowd. Kael flashed him a mischievous grin and raised his tankard in a mock toast.

"Come on, buddy, join the party!" he called out, beckoning him over with a wink. "No need to be shy around me. I promise I won't bite... unless you want me to."

The dark elf blushed furiously at his boldness, but he couldn't hide the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He tentatively made his way over to Kael, accepting the tankard he offered him with a grateful nod.

As the night wore on, Kael found himself engrossed in conversation with the crew, swapping stories of past adventures and daring escapes. He made sure to keep the mood light and jovial, cracking jokes and pulling pranks on anyone who dared to challenge him to a drinking contest.

Every now and then, Kael would catch Elara's eye from across the room, their gazes locking in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. His glances were flirty and suggestive, promising all sorts of mischief, and something more - a continuation from where they left off.

But for now, Kael was content to lose himself in the camaraderie of the crew, reveling in the surprising sense of belonging that he had found aboard the Midnight Marauder.

Elara, meanwhile, was just about finishing her first bottle of rum.
The tavern felt too small. She needed air. So she went up onto the main deck. The salty ocean air calmed her some. She  leaned on the rail and watched a dolphin that was swimming alongside the ship.

The night sky stretched endlessly above the ship, a blanket of stars twinkling like diamonds against the inky blackness. The gentle sounds of the waves lapping against the hull provided a soothing backdrop to the chaos of the tavern below deck. The salty breeze carried the promise of adventure and the taste of freedom.

Kael stood at the edge of the deck, watching as Elara slipped away from the revelry of the tavern and made her way to a more isolated spot. Her silhouette was illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, casting a halo around her dark hair as she leaned against the railing, seemingly lost in thought.

Deciding to follow her, Kael moved silently across the deck, his footsteps muffled by the creaking of the ship and the distant sounds of the crew. As he approached, he could hear the faint rustle of fabric of Elara's attire.

"Have you grown tired of the festivities already, captain?" Kael's voice was low and gentle as he spoke, not wanting to startle her. He came to stand beside her, gazing out at the horizon with a sense of wonder. There was something about the night sky at sea that always left him feeling small and insignificant, yet strangely alive.

Deciding against waiting on her respond, he spoke again, "why didn't you have me killed when your crew caught me?"

"Kkärsvig asked me the same thing," she mused, not happy about being shook out of her thoughts.
"Honestly, I don't know," she admitted.
"Maybe I should have killed you." She turned and got really close to him.
"What were you doing on my ship anyway, Kael?" She asked, her voice having a dangerously cold edge to it.

Kael met her gaze, his expression serious yet tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Ah, Captain, first to steal your treasure, then to steal your heart," he replied, his voice smooth and laced with charm. "But rest assured, my intentions are nothing if not adventurous... and perhaps a tad mischievous." He offered her a sly grin, hoping to defuse the tension with a touch of humor. "So, is it working?" he then asked, his finger tracing her cheek with an affectionate ease.

"Maybe another night in the brig would do you some good," she threatened, still very much unamused.
She very quickly grabbed his wrist and pushed him against the rail.
"No, I'm afraid not."

Kael's heart raced as Elara's grip tightened around his wrist, her strength surprising him. He could feel the hard, unforgiving surface of the rail against his back as she pressed him against it, her proximity sending a shiver down his spine. Despite the threat in her words and the seriousness in her demeanor, he was still wildly attracted to her.

He met her gaze with a mixture of defiance and intrigue, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "I suppose a night in the brig could be considered a romantic gesture in some circles," he quipped, attempting to lighten the mood even in the face of danger. "And I must confess, Captain, I love a woman who can kick my ass."

"Don't tempt me," she warned, letting go of him and turning and walking away.

Despite her outward demeanor, there was a slight smile playing on her lips.

As the cool night air caressed his skin, Kael couldn't help but let a small smile dance across his lips. Elara's departure had left him with a mixture of feelings - a sense of longing, a hint of frustration, but also a thrill of anticipation for what lay ahead. He leaned against the railing, relishing in the peaceful solitude for a moment longer before returning to the lively atmosphere of the tavern.

However, before he could take a single step, a figure emerged from the shadows, stumbling slightly in their drunken stupor. Kael's smile faltered as he recognized one of the crew members, a glint of suspicion in their eyes. Before he could react, the crew member lunged forward, pressing a blade against Kael's neck with unsteady hands.

"What's your game, Kael?" they slurred, their breath heavy with ale. "Are you with us or against us? Don't think we haven't noticed your little rendezvous with the captain."

Kael's heart raced as he felt the cold steel against his skin, his mind racing for a way to defuse the situation. He raised his hands slowly in a gesture of surrender, his eyes meeting the crew member's with a mix of calm and determination.

"Easy there, friend," he said evenly, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "I'm with you all the way. Just enjoying the night air, that's all. No need for any trouble."

Elara hadn't left, merely leaning against the ship's main mast, watching the situation unfold with muted interest, arms folded. She wondered how far the drunken crew mate would go.
She normally didn't interfere, letting her crew solve their own issues.
But she didn't like how aggressive this crewmate was being.

Azarion, meanwhile, was watchman for the night and walked over to the drunken crewmate and Kael.

"Oi, mate, be careful. Kael's spoken for, I'm afraid," Azarion said smoothly, pushing the drunken crewmate back and taking his knife.
"Go cool off, and maybe come back sober, yeah?"

Kael exhaled in relief as Azarion intervened, his tense muscles relaxing slightly at the sight of the drunken man being guided away. "Thanks," he muttered gratefully, nodding to Azarion as the man took control of the situation with ease.

As Azarion deftly disarmed the crewmate and ushered him away, Kael couldn't help but smirk at the man's smooth handling of the situation. "Spoken for, eh?" he quipped, a playful glint in his eye as he glanced back at Azarion.

Azarion, once the drunken man was out of earshot, turned around to Kael.
"I had to say something to get him away," he said, nervously excusing himself.
"I'm on watch duty I gotta go," and he disappeared.
Elara spoke from the shadows.
"It would be best if we dropped you off at the next port. The crew doesn't trust you and frankly, I don't either."

Kael's facade faltered as he leaned against the rail, his expression growing pensive. Folding his arms over his chest, he mulled over Elara's suggestion. Being dropped off would indeed be the safest option, especially considering he had no riches to show for himself. Yet, as he met her gaze, a nagging feeling tugged at him. Had he truly let his guard down enough to entertain the notion that he was... falling for her?

"You're probably right not to trust me," he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he continued, "But what if I don't want to be dropped off? Keep me in the brig. I'll earn your trust somehow, Elara." As these words slipped through his lips, he realized it was the first time he referred to her as her name, and not just "Captain."

Elara stared at him, honestly unsure of what to do. Something didn't feel right. What was he after?
"Were you with a group beforehand?" She questioned, eyes boring into his.

Elara stared at Kael, her gaze searching for any hint of deception in his eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his story than he was letting on. That much he could tell from looking at her.

Kael hesitated for a moment, weighing his words carefully. He knew he had to tread carefully, revealing just enough to gain her trust without exposing himself entirely.

"Yeah," he admitted, his gaze meeting hers. "I was part of a crew called the Canary Crew. We were... well, we were a group of rogues and thieves, navigating the streets together, looking out for each other."

He paused, a flicker of emotion crossing his features before he continued.

"It wasn't always easy, but they were like family to me. We had each other's backs, you know? And... I learned a lot from them."

As he spoke, memories of his time with the Canary Crew flooded his mind - the camaraderie, the daring heists, the close calls. Despite the risks and the dangers, there was a sense of belonging that he had never felt before.

"But things change," he added softly, his expression turning somber. "Maybe I was always meant to find myself here."

There was something that didn't fit the puzzle, but what it was Elara didn't quite know.
So she decided to trust him. Keep a close eye on him, but trust him.

"I know how that feels," Elara said softly.
"This crew is the closest thing I have to family...ever since my parents died."
She really did care for her crew, even if she didn't always show it.

"This crew is the closest thing I have to family...ever since my parents died."

Kael knew exactly how that felt.

As they stood together under the night sky, Kael took a deep breath, steeling himself to reveal a part of his past he rarely shared with anyone. "My parents died in a shipwreck when I was just a child," he began, his voice a rare shade of sad in that moment. "I was left orphaned and alone, forced to fend for myself on the unforgiving streets of the port city."

He paused, his gaze distant as he recalled the memories of his youth. "Survival wasn't easy," he continued. "I had to steal to put food on the table, to find shelter for the night. It was a harsh life, but it was all I knew."

Kael glanced at Elara, meeting her eyes briefly before continuing. "One day, I made a foolish attempt to steal from my now boss, Rata," he confessed, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "But instead of punishing me, he saw something in me. He saw potential."

"And so he brought me into the crew," Kael concluded. "It was with the Canary Crew that I found a sense of belonging, a family of sorts. They took me in, taught me the ways of the trade, and I've been with them ever since."

Elara put a comforting hand on Kael's shoulder.
"Well. I'm glad you found a family."
Comfort wasn't Elara's biggest strength.
She cleared her throat, looking off to the horizon.
"Well, I'll be in my quarters if you need me...it's getting late. Get some rest, for the next week or so is going to be hard work."

Kael's heart fluttered at Elara's touch, her words stirring a mixture of conflicting emotions within him. He knew he shouldn't allow himself to get too close to her, but the connection they shared was undeniable. He felt a pang of longing for something more, yet he knew it was better to keep his distance.

With a wry grin, Kael replied in his usual playful manner, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. "Well, I'll be in the brig if you get lonely," he quipped, his tone light despite the weight of his emotions. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Elara to her thoughts as he retreated to his own "quarters."

Elara sighed. Had she really fallen for this stranger that had snuck onto her ship with every intent of stealing?
Well, once they got to Essyrn, he could take his cut of the money and go back to wherever he came from. On a different ship. That sounded like a good plan.
She made her way back to her quarters, lying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.
But sleep did not come easily.

Kael lay in his bed within the confines of the brig, the dim glow of the solitary lantern casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. The cell door stood open, a silent invitation to freedom, yet Kael remained still, his mind consumed by thoughts of the captain. He couldn't shake the image of Elara from his mind, her fiery spirit and unwavering determination haunting him even in the dead of night. Despite his best efforts to push her from his thoughts, her presence lingered like a stubborn ghost, leaving him restless and unable to find solace in sleep.

"Screw this," he muttered to himself, standing from the bed.

Kael's mind raced as he crept through the dimly lit corridors of the ship, his steps silent as he made his way to the captain's quarters. He knew he should be focused on finding a way off the ship with his ill-gotten gains, but for some reason, thoughts of Elara consumed him.

As he approached her door, his heart pounded in his chest. What was he doing? He should turn back now, before it was too late. But something drew him forward, an inexplicable pull that he couldn't resist.

With a steady hand, Kael knocked softly on the door, his heart racing as he waited for her response. Would she be angry at him for sneaking into her quarters? Or would she welcome his presence, despite their rocky start?

Only time would tell.

Elara was in the midst of finally drifting off to sleep when a knock sounded on her door, jolting her awake.
She threw back the covers and got out of her bed, walking over to the wooden door.
"Who is it?" She mumbled, and then opened the door anyways.
"Oh..it's you...what do you want?" She asked, her heart kindly choosing that moment to accelerate.