Amen looked over at the younger Rys, frowning slightly. "It is either a beating with the stave or cutting with a sword - I'll take the stave personally, even though Neriad is a little shit." The captain glared over at the member of his crew, who returned a slightly cocky smirk. "Well, I'm turning in. Someone arrange a watch."

With that, the captain turned over right where he was and fell asleep with a near comic amount of speed.

Ryssa raised a brow as the man fell asleep far too easily. Shaking her head, the woman gave a irritated noise. "How in the sands of Set can he fall asleep so quickly and easily?" The young woman muttered with a roughness in her voice. Turning her gaze to the closest companion, which was Neriad 'Rys' gave a the man a quick look. Perhaps it would be wise to follow the nosy captain's advice. To talk and try to make some friends, which went against what Ryssa had grown up with. Perhaps her mother had been wrong in this advice? It wasn't like the woman was infallible.

"Don't like talking." Rys shrugged at Neriad as if it was obvious. "My only interest lies in reaching Egypt with some gold in my name." It wasn't like that land was filled with riches and treasures. It was, but the sand often took as much as it gave or so her mother had spoke from her homeland. "Where are you from any ways, 'little shit'?" The woman tilted her head, as she took the moniker that Amen had used. "I've seen none of your like in Rome."

Neriad listened to Rys' awkwardness, laughing as she also called him 'little shit'. "I come from the Kingdom of Judea - one of the two Hebrew monarchies. I left a while back however to pick up the life of a mercenary." The Hebrew found it a little surprising that the Egypt obsessed pirate didn't know about his homeland. "I'm assuming you've heard about Moses, at least?"

Rys gave the man a blank look, her eyes devoid of any real understanding. But that was typical for the supposed 'man's' attention had been in Rome and the possibility of heading to Egypt. But the name did spark some interest and had sound familiar. "Is this the ruler of your homeland-?" The voice was gruff and irritated, at the lack of knowledge. Not liking to admit that she didn't know what Neriad was speaking of. While the name rang a bell, it wasn't like the news that came through the women folk of her mother's occupation were more concerned with what could be used as blackmail. "The name is familiar."

Neriad laughed a bit at Rys' comment. "Ruler? No!" The man found it a bit funny the Egyptianophile didn't know about this basic piece of lore. "Long time ago, Moses, a former prince of Egypt, freed our people from Pharaoh through a series of plagues. We walked across the red sea to the land we now call home."

He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose he could be considered a ruler, but he passed away from this world long ago. My people are merely the decedents of his efforts."

Rhys looks skeptical of the man. "How does one walk across the sea? It is impossible and I've yet to see you perform the same task. Though it would be useful several times over now." The man noted, his gruff voice intrigued by this notion. "Or was it merely a trait your ancestors possessed?" Perhaps it was the sleep or tiredness but Neriad was looking rather handsome for a man, not that Ryssa would say so but he intrigued her more than the nefarious and irritating captain. Though she batted the thought away with a tired hand, for while their bout had not been hard she was tired in her own way of things. The ruse was a nuscience to keep up but she would manage til they reached Egypt. Then she would become someone else entirely and they would have a mysterious disappearance aboard their ship.

"For then it could be said my mother's folk were descended of Set. The god of desert and travelers and storms. All of which seem to plague out family." Indeed it was true. Her mother had come from a nomadic tribe wandering the sand. They had paused by the sea to fish and seek perhaps a bit more stable of life for a time to be set upon by storms and bandits. The latter being in a sense travelers. Though oddly enough it was never as bad as it could be. Her mother had been unlucky enough to be one of the snatched woman. But in the end, Ryssa cared little for the possibles or the past. "But I am more interested in this sea-walking."

He laughed. "I must have misspoke. He parted a sea so you could walk through it. When Pharaoh pursued, his army was drowned as the water closed in. But no, neither me nor any of my close ancestors were able to walk on water to my knowledge."

He pointed towards the water though. "If you'd like to give it a try though, I'm interested. There's a nice sea right there." Neriad's finger returned from directing Rhys towards the Mediterranean after a second, a smile crossing his face. "I hope you can at least swim though."

It was fairly important for their business after all.

Rys scoffed at the notion. Well could she swim but it would be a fool's thing to do. But would lying about not being able to be worse? There were many questions. Questions that needed answering. Her shoulders rolled in a shrug. "Legends and tales. Far fetched, yet I have seen a few to be true." Not caring to elaborate, Rys stood and moved off into the shadows of the sand dunes. Seeking a place to disappear until the noise of the crew stirring awoke her. Finding a suitable spot the 'man' stretched out with a annoyed grunt. Finding the thought of walking upon water amusing if nothing else.

1 Day Later
The crew found themselves out at sea early in the morning, and midday by luck they managed to stumble across the shipment from Carthage to Crete. Fifteen minutes ago the pirates began trailing them in a ridiculously slow pursuit - the sail had no slack as whatever gods controlled the wind decided to take noontime off, so both ships ended up in a chase so comically slow that the initial excitement of having spotted their prey had long since died down. Those working the oars were going as quickly as they could, which at least was faster than the larger merchant ship ahead of them could manage.

And Amen was sick of Epiz's puns. 'Potrates', he said with a gleam in his eye. If he wasn't so damn useful Amen would have tossed him overboard.

It would likely be at least a couple minutes until they finally managed to catch up. Rys would feel a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Kid, excited? Nervous?" Amen was a little curious about his own crew, but more importantly he wanted to get away from the annoying man.

The early morning sea was a beautiful thing even with the chill of water that seeped over the wooden planks of the ship. The pursuit had been utterly annoying though in Ryssa's opinion. The 'man' busying herself with checking the spear at her side and sword at her hip. Neither were in the best of shape due to salt and having started out second hand, but they weren't going to break under anything unless it was a elephant's foot. Their oars had turned out to be a gods' send as they were gaining on the cursed merchant ship. Thus Ryssa was leaning against a rail, considering if swimming would be faster when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

It seemed Epiz had annoyed their captain, which Ryssa considered a justified version of divine intervention. If the man wasn't so curious, Ryssa would have been fine with him. But he was a risk and thus why she was cursing her need for a ship that was possibly heading to Egypt. "I am hardly a baby goat or a child." The supposed man growled in a rough voice, shrugging off the hand with a irritated movement. "And do not sneak upon me like that else I take exception." Staring off over the waves that swelled and broke about them. The gulls overhead that swore back and forth amongst themselves. "It's just a fight like any other." Her first battle, and at sea! Ryssa was terrified, but she wasn't going to back down. She couldn't. The gold from this could fill her pockets a little more and get her passage to her mother's homeland. "Just against merchants with pockets perhaps deep enough to hire someone worthwhile."

Amen rolled his eyes a bit, able to see the nervousness beneath Rys' surface. It was a good thing though that they were largely capable of hiding it - that suggested the man had his emotions at least reasonably under control. Though of course, Rys had forgotten the most important part of being a bandit.

"You forget, Rys, that hopefully there won't be any fight at all. If the threat of violence can make us rich, then we don't need to risk any lives." The captain looked over the water as the sail suddenly blew up. They'd likely be making contact in a minute or two. "And I dunno, you seem like a kid to me."

Epiz rolled his eyes at Amen's counter-pun, before shouting something at the captain that pulled him over. They were likely going to make contact within a minute.

Is there anything Ryssa would want to do as last minute preparation?

Ryssa shrugged, her thin shoulders rolling like the waves below. "Can you say you are not slightly eager after so long and dull a chase? I do prefer the boring myself. But when agitated it's good to work aggression out on something." The 'or someone' a silent addition to that sentence. Her voice was rough, and not due her acting. The salt of the sea had been helping on her little facade. She was eager for this 'fight', 'threatening of a merchant galley' or whatever to be over and done with so that she might line her pockets with a bit of wealth. Perhaps enough to procure her way to Egypt and a nice little life there.

Doing what though? That was the question wasn't it? She knew bits and pieces but that was it. A question for another day, the woman thought, as the sail filled with the god's breathe. "I'm hardly a 'kid'." The fighter grumbled, her eyes moving to watch the ship drawing nearer. It was just as well, as Ezpin pulled the captain away for a last minute word. Tapping an impatient finger on the rail of the ship, Ryssa swore she would swim it if it took much longer. She also swore she was going to make the damnable captain fall overboard. But that was as likely to happen as swimming. For in truth.... She could not- swim that was. It was never something she had time to learn and it never seemed all that important.

Adjusting the short Roman sword at her hip the woman eyed the ship. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to hop the rail and cut throats. Not literally of course. The fewer deaths the better.

The galley finally ended up alongside the opposing ship. There was a moment of tension as the pirates waited to see if the businessmen would have some sense and surrender. But the opposing ship was quiet aside from the hardworking grunts of their oarsmen. One ... Two ... Three ...

An offer of surrender should have come in by now. Amen frowned and turned to the rest of his crew. "Looks like they need some convincing! Lets get at them!" A couple of the oarsmen threw their grapples onto the other ship, hooking the side. A smile crossed some of the priate's faces until a couple archers popped up at the top - in full Phonecian armor with their bows as well.

He hadn't been expecting trained troops. The rumors had said nothing about that.

"Go! Now!" The pirate climbed the rope as the archers shot down at the smaller but faster galley. A few oarsmen died easily, but those attacking would find the very ship they were assailing providing them with a small amount of cover.

Being a smaller and lighter figure, it was entirely possible Rys would make it onto the ship first if she chose.

Ryssa gripped one of the rope's grapple and pulled herself up it with ease. Though it was not necessarily a skill that came from climbing ropes so much as climbing the balconies of her mother's residence. Allowing visits between customers and her to slip away without having to risk being spotted by some handsy drunk. Latching a hand upon the rail of the deck the grey haired woman disguised as a man swung herself on board. A knife stabbing into the throat of an archer who turned to face her.

Thus her one advantage came into it's full glory. Speed. Quick and light on her feet. Ryssa slipped and slide across the deck with ease as she knifed and engaged the archers in brief fights. Often using the bodies of the men as shields against their fellow archers before moving onto the next. Better it was still to topple them into the water. Though she would settle for this and making a general nuisance of herself. Though Ryssa was under no false illusions. If one of those bastards snagged her just right to find out who she was, or pulled her into the water. She would either have to kill him quickly, or grab onto the ship and hope she could pull herself from the vast depths below them.

The archers were surprised as a sudden assailant jumped onto them, eviscerating them rapidly as they began to draw their blades - those who did found the extremely close quarters difficult to navigate as the knife fighter began to cut through them. Soon two archers lie bleeding out on the deck and one laying in the water trying desperately to get back on board.

The other pirates took advantage of the opportunity, Neriad quickly scaling the ship and fighting off two guards wielding shortswords who had been looking to jump on Ryssa now that their friends were no longer in the way. Amen and the brothers soon followed afterwards, with the leading pirate's gold jewelry shining as he engaged in a duel with a well armored opponent - wearing a set of grieves on his lower legs and ring mail going over his chest. His shield deflected one of the captains attempted strikes. The brothers ran over to another group of archers who had drawn their side arms before they joined the fray.

Ryssa did not spare time for anything more than a brief nod of gratitude towards the strange Neriad. Twisting about with the quickness of an eel, the supposed man dove into the fray with the warrior. Her hand grasping one of the men's shoulders and jerking him back, even as her knife slashed upwards and then drove down. Stabbing deep into his throat and spraying the ruby drops into the surf below. Jerking the knife free with some trouble, Ryssa let the body clatter over the side. There was no reason to stop it and burden herself in the middle of a fight after all.

Now that Neriad was facing a more even fight, the woman whirled in search of a new opponent. The brothers were cutting down the archers, and she highly suspected that Neriad was more than a match for the one he faced. Leaving the Captain and his bruiser of a opponent. Her eyes gleamed with contempt as she rushed the heavily armored fool's back. Darting low, Ryssa stabbed upwards with the dagger, the blade sinking in behind the giant's knee as the 'man' danced backwards. The knife stuck in the flesh still.

Amen had actually started to get a little bit worried there as the bruiser seemed ready to crush him. The first source of his worry came to an end as the new crew member played dirty and struck the man from the back. The bruiser lowered to one knee, and Amen now fought on the offensive to keep the man occupied while hopefully his companion would finish the man off from the back - he couldn't look two ways at once, after all.

The second source of worry built up as he looked at the fight around them - Rys had caught those archers by surprise, and despite what would normally be overwhelming odds against them the group was finding themselves victorious.

But why were there so many guards in the first place? Weren't there just supposed to be pots on board? Fine pottery, sure. But still pottery. "Rys, finish him and regroup with the brothers!" To give the man the opening, the captain slammed his foot into the shield and then swung at his left - the man blocked his strike successfully, but due to his exhaustion and pain Rys would find an easy opening.

Ryssa did not wait for the captain to give the order or to heed it. She acted before the words could finish leaving Amen's lips. As he gave the opening, Ryssa was on to the burly giant. Her last knife stabbing deep into the unprotected armpit and piercing the heart. Yanking the blade out to plunge it back in several times to make sure of death, Rys gave a snarled as the man became a burdensome dead weight. Shoving him to the deck, Ryssa reached to retrieve the knife that had been in the giant's leg. The blade was slightly bent, and the handle was cracked, but it would still serve for this fight.

Moving across the deck towards the brothers who were struggling against the archers, Ryssa skirted pools of blood, water, and bodies alike. Weapons too littered the ground in treacherous traps. Coils of rope from the average day's sailing. Tripping across one of such hazards, Ryssa slammed 'his' shoulder into one archer who was about to lunged for the brother. The wooden planks were hard beneath her as she rolled from the archer. Her knives driven into his leg as her hand seized upon his sword and drew it. Glancing to the side she noted the edge was far too close, and the bastard was still alive. Struggling to her feet to deliver a death blow to the bastard, the Egyptian-Roman swore a delectable list of curses in both languages.