Castia - Western Cortos
Lucius clung to the underside of the pier with a grip fierce enough to cause the wood to groan. There was a knife between his teeth, and above him he could hear footsteps resounding.
The voice above called out with no small amount of anger, Lucius shifting just slightly to gaze through the thick slats of wood. He could make out the figure standing directly above him, his smart coat and grandiose hat making him out as one of the Admirals in Castia's navy. Besides him stood a soldier dressed in simple armor, blade handing at his side.
Lucius frowned for a brief moment, but didn't allow himself even a breath.
There was a loud slap as the Admiral struck the soldier across the face. Lucius winced slightly, glancing over towards his fellow crewmembers who were clinging to the docks only a few feet down. Both of them were scowling, their expressions those of men who had been punished by similar means just a few short weeks ago.
The Admiral Hissed, the sound of his boots tromping down the pier echoing out after him.
For a moment more Lucius clung to the pier, his muscles flexing as they strained. After a moment he let go with one hand, reaching out and slowly crawling towards the edge of the pier. Once there one arm was flung over the edge of the dock, and in a quick lithe motion he pulled himself up and onto the Pier. A frown touched his lips, gaze flickering towards the harbor and the horizon beyond.
The sun was still a few hours from setting, which meant they had time before the Cicala actually arrived. By his own reckoning that would be just enough time to recruit a few others.
He'd sent Peyton and the Blackheart up the coast, lying in wait until they could get the Treasure Ship out of the main harbor. The crew with him was enough to run the Cicala itself, but taking it? Well that was still up for a debate. A debate he and his First Mate had had for hours until he'd finally laid down the final word. He just hoped he'd been right, or that he could find a few mercs looking for coin.
Lucius clung to the underside of the pier with a grip fierce enough to cause the wood to groan. There was a knife between his teeth, and above him he could hear footsteps resounding.
"Well where the bloody fuck is it?"
The voice above called out with no small amount of anger, Lucius shifting just slightly to gaze through the thick slats of wood. He could make out the figure standing directly above him, his smart coat and grandiose hat making him out as one of the Admirals in Castia's navy. Besides him stood a soldier dressed in simple armor, blade handing at his side.
Lucius frowned for a brief moment, but didn't allow himself even a breath.
"She's due tonight Admiral, The Cicala is a treasure Ship, not a scoo-"
There was a loud slap as the Admiral struck the soldier across the face. Lucius winced slightly, glancing over towards his fellow crewmembers who were clinging to the docks only a few feet down. Both of them were scowling, their expressions those of men who had been punished by similar means just a few short weeks ago.
"I know what she is. Just make sure she gets here safely."
The Admiral Hissed, the sound of his boots tromping down the pier echoing out after him.
For a moment more Lucius clung to the pier, his muscles flexing as they strained. After a moment he let go with one hand, reaching out and slowly crawling towards the edge of the pier. Once there one arm was flung over the edge of the dock, and in a quick lithe motion he pulled himself up and onto the Pier. A frown touched his lips, gaze flickering towards the harbor and the horizon beyond.
The sun was still a few hours from setting, which meant they had time before the Cicala actually arrived. By his own reckoning that would be just enough time to recruit a few others.
He'd sent Peyton and the Blackheart up the coast, lying in wait until they could get the Treasure Ship out of the main harbor. The crew with him was enough to run the Cicala itself, but taking it? Well that was still up for a debate. A debate he and his First Mate had had for hours until he'd finally laid down the final word. He just hoped he'd been right, or that he could find a few mercs looking for coin.