The whipping wind makes the sails taut as the salty smell of the ocean washes over the ship. Maytoc was standing on the dock, observing her ship, Tactician's Dream, a well outfitted caravel. The masthead was simple, designed for speed rather than flair. The sail was painted with her symbol, a map, opened partially, over a pair of crossed swords. She breathed deeply, adjusting her hat, and smiled. Today her crew was gathering, and they would set out on their very first voyage. She could hardly wait, even though she knew she could. She slowly walked onboard, getting a feel for her new ship.
The town was abuzz, rumors flying. Strange characters had gathered, seemingly being summoned on the day of this voyage. The rumors of the captain being powerful beyond ordinary people were being bandied about, and the tavern was full of her soon-to-be crew. The wind was perfect, the weather beautiful, and the temperature at a nice place.
There was one ship in port, the Tactician's Dream, and Maytoc decided it was time to call for her crew. She focused, using her telepathy to locate her crew and subsequently set a pull towards her ship in their minds.