Briswal eyed the tall blonde sailor as she worked the buntline, effortlessly hauling the square sail up its mast. He had seen the others work this very same sail, but never alone like this one, it took at least two, to accomplish this task.
"She does the work of three, that one does…" Briswal was startled out of his reverie, by the rough, crude voice of Captain Retgar Gardiliam, the reek of pipe smoke and bad rum wafting over the wind towards Briswal, "and not bad to eyeball either if you like them that way." He said with a sideways leer. "Don't tell her that to her face, though… Chancey learned the hard way; he did…she gave him one chance to back off before she kicked him so hard in the collops it blew out one of his balls. Now the boys have taken to calling him 'Half-Sack' after Doc had to cut it out." Retgar unconsciously grabbed his groin as he recalled the kick that sent poor Chancey to the ship's surgery, puking at the pain, and the smell of shit emanating from his pants as he was dragged off by his mates. "At any rate, we'll be at Darkshelf port tomorrow morning, so pack your gear up, and be ready to move smartly, if you please, we don't want to stay any longer in these waters than we have to."
With that, he sauntered off, barking orders along the way….