Stavanger Bay Warpless

The red woman started to speak but then caught her tongue and the pale wolf watched her with an expectant expression. He thought, for a moment, that she was missing a few marbles. It had been proven, so far, that she was relatively harmless save for the remarks made about necromancers. Smokestep still did not believe that there were such things hiding in the woods; he had been witness to numerous frightening beings, but they had always been explained by the mystics of the sea or the vile heart that rested within. He had a sneaking suspicion that her necromancers were one of the two, and he was interested in if he would be granted the chance to find out.

“Ye've got all the chance in the world, miss. Real question is whether ye've got the guts,” he said to her comment finally. The Ironsea wolves were a ragtag crew, and they were young, but Smokestep had great plans for them and he intended to see his members stayed fit with him until they died. “Once a pirate, always a pirate, so ye don't come along an' then leave without facin' the consequences,” he then added with a serious furrowing of his brows and a splaying of his ears.

“Have ye got what it takes, Godot?”