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The drunken crew's shouts echoed through the streets of Llomerryn despite the late hour, but to hell with it all – they deserved it. The Ebon Skullcrusher’s latest incursion had netted them such a haul that they could buy the tavern and everything in it; they’d certainly earned their night of debauchery. A couple of days of excess and then back to work – they could be sure of that. Anyone who signed up under the Kraken’s command knew – or would learn the hard way – that however substantial the reward, the only place for slackers was the bottom of the ocean.
Caribdis himself, for his part, preferred to stay more or less sober. He had plenty of business to attend to the following day, as well as discussing various improvements he wanted to make to the ship. Those bloody shipbuilders were always trying to fleece him; better to stay on his guard. He looked around for his sister, though he knew full well that Scylla never took part in such revelries. She’d probably be in her cabin, absorbed in her spells and activities that Caribdis chose to ignore. Together they were a lethal combination, Kraken and Doomsong, though their very names were nicknames that had been used for so long that they’d forgotten what they were actually called.
His gaze, however, revealed that there was someone far more interesting nearby. A dark-haired woman, surprisingly tall, whose scars suggested that, to say the least, fights were nothing new to her. It did not escape him, either, that she was carrying several daggers – some of them hidden, though their shape was unmistakable as she sat down. But it was her expression that he found most intriguing. Frowning and sullen, and although there were a few empty pitchers on the table she was sitting at, she did not appear drunk in the slightest. She was looking around with a certain disdain, without missing a single detail. Studying. Hunting.
Their eyes met for a moment. To his surprise, the stranger stood up and began walking towards his table, thereby allowing the Qunari’s eyes to roam over her body at will. Tall and wiry, her build suggested she was not human—not entirely, at least. She sat down opposite him, her expression not softening in the slightest. Clearly, this was not going to be a friendly chat.
“You. You’re the captain of the Ebon Skullcrusher, aren’t you? The one they call the Kraken.” Caribdis didn’t reply; such disrespect was beneath him. “Looking at you, you don’t seem all that terrifying.”
He let out an arrogant chuckle. “The only shitty opinion I could possibly care about is whether you’d suck my cock—though I doubt it’d be worth it.” She grimaced. “You’d do well not to challenge strangers if you want to live a long life.”
“Who says I want to?” The woman held his gaze. “The living bit, I mean—the other stuff I don’t even consider. But I’m interested in your ship. Your crew. I want a place on board.”
A bottle flew towards them, crashing just a few centimetres from their heads. Caribdis wrinkled his nose.
“Business, eh? A curious time to be doing it.” He stood up and grabbed a huge bottle of spirits straight from the bar, along with a couple of glasses. “Let’s talk outside.”
They went out and down some steps to the very edge of the beach, where a few tables were set out. It wasn’t exactly a popular spot—not if you wanted to avoid the sight of various couples—or groups—fighting, having sex, or both—but it was also conveniently far from the hubbub inside.
“Well then,” Caribdis filled two glasses with that liquid, downing one in one go. “What do you have to offer?”
“My… skills are varied.” Mimicking his gesture, the glass in front of her was soon empty too, a situation which was remedied. “Most of them involve knives. Believe me when I say I know where and in whom to plunge them.” A grim smile appeared on her lips. “I’m not asking for much in return—just transport, food and a place to sleep.”
He couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Sure. An irresistible offer—a self-proclaimed assassin on my ship in exchange for absolutely nothing.” He leaned forward menacingly. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you, little lady, but if something seems too good to be true, it’s because it’s not.”
With astonishing speed, the woman thrust two daggers—one in each hand—on either side of the pirate’s face. “If I wanted to kill you, Captain, believe me, I’d have done it by now.” At last she was showing him her true face—ruthless and lethal. “I want a bloody ticket out of here; I don’t care where we’re going or why, as long as it’s far enough away from Antiva.”
There lay the trap. “Antiva, huh?” Caribdis repeated, refilling both glasses as she sheathed her weapons. A quick glance at the edges confirmed his suspicion that he was dealing with a Crow. “Are you trying to escape your enemies or your past?”
“Fuck off, you dickhead, she grumbled, taking another swig.
“Both,” thought Caribdis, before speaking aloud again. “I don’t know if you’re a criminal or just stupid, and to be honest, I don’t care. But you’ve got me curious, miss, so just this once I’m going to give you a chance. You know the name of the ship. We’re setting sail in two days.”
She scowled defiantly. “I’m not going to wait two days to get on that bloody thing.
This time it was Caribdis who moved much faster than her and grabbed her by the wrist, causing her to drop the glass. “I don’t think you understand, precious, ” he whispered menacingly, pulling her arm towards him as he sat half-upright on the table. “I don’t give a shit whether you want to or not, because you’re not the one in charge. On my ship, I’m the one who gives the orders.”
Far from being intimidated, she moved even closer. He could feel her breath, still reeking of alcohol, on his face. Bloody arrogant, bloody defiant. “Then you’d better make sure those orders are worth it, Captain, because I only obey those who earn it.”
That was the last straw. He wasn't going to let that stranger challenge him, so, as their lips met in a fiery, rage-filled kiss, Caribdis promised himself that this woman would find out just how good he was at taming impertinent creatures like her. Of course, for both their sakes—and for the fun of it—he hoped she wouldn't exactly make thing easy.