Prologue: A Gathering of Heroes - Part 7

“It still will be called The Siren’s Nipple after all”, she whispers as she uneasily looks towards the sky, preparing for the next strike of lightning to disagree with her. Nothing happens and she relaxes her shoulders.
“Poor soul. What a horrible way to go…” Her attention is pulled away from his ashes and towards the envelope, glimmering bright in the light of the sun. “Oh, so shiny”, she whispers to herself and carefully peels of the red wax seal.
“Let’s trade you for some coin or wine”, she thinks as she carefully folds the envelope and puts it in her bag. “Now, what have we here?”

“Lyssa Kaklamanis, Captain of The Shy Maiden,

You’ve collected quite the crew to surround yourself with, siren. Your charming abilities are formidable and I believe they make you feel safe, but you aren’t safe, are you? You have ten bodyguards and yet you seem so easily frightened.
We know about your past and you have every right to doubt every stranger’s intentions. This includes us, but I will make clear why you can trust me.”

She looks around her, searching for her mateys, uneasily vigilant of her vibrant surroundings.
“Guys, can you come over here?” Silence is the only response to her question.
“Guys?”
She looks back at the letter, hoping to find comfort in the next lines of text.

“I know you could only desire one thing more than your own safety. You desire treasure.”

“And lots of wine”, she adds, reaching for her flask, disappointed by the absence of fluids inside.

“I have a very interesting offer to make, one that will take away any form of poverty forever. I will make you the richest woman of this region, any form of luxury you desire will be yours. You can buy your safety. You only have to do one thing: find me in Crimson Gulch.
You’ve set sail to this place before, so I’m sure you’ll know the way. I will fully enlighten you about your mission when you arrive, but here is the short version of the debriefing: a band of thieves stole something dear to the angelic council of the Silver Circle. We need it back and you, together with four others - hopefully - are going to retrieve it. Make haste, captain, and set sail.

Yours sincerely,

Hadriel, First Descendant of the Seraphim”

She looks up again, trying to spot any sign of her nearing crew, but she seems to be abandoned.
She walks back to the ship, finding Vincent DeRood laying in the sand with multiple bleeding cuts across his body.
“They were all released from your spell, capt’n”, he’s able to say, coughing blood, “and they took the ship!”
The Shy Maiden is only a few dozen yards away from the shore, but she wouldn’t keep up with it by swimming.
“No one takes my fucking ship and live to sing shanties about it. I am her captain!”
She jumps onto a rock, looking straight at her former crew looking back at her. She can see the terror in their eyes as she opens her mouth and starts to sing.

“With cradling waves guiding your sleep,
bringing me your minds, all ready to reap.
You think to escape through my mother, the sea,
never realizing how she’d bring you back to me.”

The ships starts to turn. Screaming men create the background vocals for the pristine sounds of her chanting.

“Walking the edges and walking the plank,
caressing the memory, the last time you drank.
No more red wine, just the waters of salt.
Prepare yourselves, mateys, and make your last vault.”

Her ship comes straight towards the beach, ready to strand and be taking back by her righteous owner.
She continues with the last part of her ballad, as she observes the nine mutineers balancing at the edge of The Shy Maiden. Their eyes are filled with terror and their bodies are struck with a magical paralysis.

“Many pirates forgotten, with the sea as their grave.
Free from their lives, no longer a slave.
Make a step, sailors, dive into the blue.
The Shy Maiden is mine and there’s no room for you.”