You stand at the bow of your ship, gazing out across the oceans, your Fluorite Octet clattering quiestly in your hands. The wind is at your back, pushing your ship silently forwards through the ocean and making your coat billow about you in a suitably dramatic fashion. Tonight is a good night for the hunt, to search out your prey on your ocean. The Empress has declared Crimsonsickle a rogue agent, a threat to the crown and to the nobility.

Ordinarily you wouldn't care. What has she ever done for you? Nothing, that's what.

But it's different this time. The Empress has placed a sizable bounty on Crimsonsickle's head. Collect on it, and you're set for life. And you have every intention of collecting on it. He murdered your best men, slandered your name, and trespassed on your seas. Not even Dualscar, the most feared of all the royal court, dares oppose you here.

And yet, Crimsonsickle does. He's been a pain in your side for sweeps, harrassing you on land and blocking what ports he can. That seems to be more of them recently, as you have been unable to dock on the mainland for several months. You're running low on food and Sopor Slime.

You downplay the lack of Slime when your crew brings up the dwindling supplies, instead focusing on the food. But, truth be told, it really is the Slime you're worried about. The bard you picked up at your last port is hooked on the stuff, consuming it instead of food. You've heard tales of what happens to those who go into Slime withdrawal from some of your allies, with Dayskin's being the most horrifying. When she talks about being sick at the sight of a Slime addict's victim, you know it's bad. Dayskin's got a cast iron stomach and nerves of steel. If something puts her off her lunch, it's got to be disgusting.

You're doing fine, for now, though. You can begin draining recuperacoons soon if you need to in order to fuel the bard's addiction. Your men might start running ragged if you do, but better tired than dead, right?

A cry wafts down from the crow's nest. Your lookout has spotted the gray sails of Crimsonsickle's pilfered ship. If there was one thing you disliked about Crimsonsickle, it was his refusual to go along with the Hemospectrum, wearing that gray of his to hid his blood colour. But that's just become his undoing. No ship on these seas has gray sails besides his. If he truly wanted to hide, he should have used teal or indigo or green or heck, even maroon would have worked.

But no, the little freak took pride in his unknown blood colour, using it has a badge of pride. Well, your ship is faster and bigger and stronger than his in every way. You could take him down with no trouble at all. Still, even you have to acknowledge how dangerous Crimsonsickle is.

As your ship slowly turns to the starboard, another ship bursts up through the waves off your port bow, amethyst sails draining watter off. Your ship straightens out so the two are running parallel, and you walk over to the port side to greet your companion. He rises out of the hold of his shipe, the Prince of Rage, and waves. You wave back, tossing him a grin as well. His crew of seadwellers is already scrambling about the ship, rigging it to keep up with yours, the Thief of Time. Never let it be said that Dualscar is inefficient. His ship runs like a well oiled machine. Yours has a few more little glitches in it, but it runs just as well. You lean over the railing on the side of the Thief and yell,

"Ey Dualscar! Ready for some fuuuuuuuun?"