Malcador was in trouble.

The sea had ruined his ship, and sent it aground more than once. Well, not his ship, exactly. Malcador was the resident mage, hired by one Haldemar Bodaventure to utilize his expertise in glyphs and language. Malcador seemed an incredibly astute and capable candidate. Handsome, debonair, intelligent, and charismatic, Malcador was one of the most promising up and coming sorcerers of the Mythrim Tethir, the great international guild of mages that was a nation in its own right. He had been recommended under strict and exuberant commendations. Unfortunately, Malcador also happened to be completely ineffectual on the sea.

When the crew had hit solid ground, Malcador stumbled off the gangplank and practically kissed the sand.

"Up lad, we've got a ways to go." Pikard said, the old boatswain walking with his roiling gait a man only used when either born in the saddle or the boat. He had a wide mouth covered in ubiquitous hair one might have considered a goatee if they were generous. He helped Malcador up, and they further caught up with the boating party. All who ventured from the boats consisted of a dozen men, armed with cutlasses and equipment such as ropes, grappling hooks, shovels, eyeglasses, and various other tools for the adventuring their expedition entailed.

Malcador stayed at the back, sick as a dog and weary. His normally suave demeanor was just surface level, if that. He had a sickly paleness to him, and he drank water only every moment or two to keep his stomach from rebelling against his sensibilities. They had warned him of tropical diseases they might gain on the island, but he had already been subject to such on the bloody boat. Damn, he wanted the gods to give him some kind of sign. A healthy stomach and a good woman would do, and maybe some rum. He was going to get his wish, but not in the way he had considered. But the Gods played tricks like that.

The view was magnificent as the sea stretched far and wide, with the sun starting to find its way under the horizon. It was Runa’s most favorite time of the day, when the sea and sky would play with rich colours, gifted by the sun and the stars. And since a few weeks she was lucky enough to see it from the best spot: The crow’s nest. The captain had made her Able bodied seaman, or ‘abs’ as she preferred to call it.

But it was time to get to work, because the ’Dreadful Lady’ was heading a different way. The boatswain had given orders to go east, to an island that apparently had been forgotten for a long, long time. The crew of young women liked to creep each other out by telling stories about all the horrors that were still left there. Though Runa never really bought any of that, she was rather intrigued by the mystery that surrounded their destination. And it was finally getting in sight.

Within the few years she had lived aboard, her agility and confidence had grown rapidly, making it easy for Runa to jump out of the crow’s nest, unto the yardarm and swing herself down as she grabbed a hanging piece of robe, landing softly on her feet at the deck, right in front of the boatswain.

“The island is in sight.” The boatswain, a dark colored and somewhat muscled woman, closed her eyes for a moment and sighed: “Can’t you yell before you appear out of nowhere?” With a frown she looked at Runa, who just shrugged it off. “We’ll talk about this later. The island, how far off is it?” Runa walked to the forecastle deck with her and replied: “I think about 16 kilometres.” The woman took out her spyglass, mumbling: “You think? About? Shame on you Runa, navigating is in the details. Look again.” Runa received the spyglass and did as she was told. “Hmm.. that’s.. 4.17.. you’re right.” She handed the spyglass back. “It’s 16,6 kilometres.” Runa only received a agreeing nod as the boatswain turned around to bring the news to the captain.

A few moments later it was all hands on deck, preparing to anchor right to the side of the bay. Runa had spotted another ship, it seemed to be a rather wealthy one by the looks of it. Her captain, who stood next to the quartermaster, had a calm posture with a slim smile on her lips. It looked like they’d get a bonus with this island.

The group had searched high and low across the island, using a small mountain at its center as a beacon to go by. The ship reached the island from the southwest, and the mountain was northeast at the time. It was easy enough to keep in mind, though Malcador was not paying too much attention. Some of the color was returning to his cheeks, but he was definitely not one hundred percent yet. He leaned on his obsidian staff to keep the sorcerer upright, and as the others paved the way with chopping cutlasses and machetes, Malcador began to feel a tingling in his mystical senses.

There was a good reason why most staves and mystical items were, or were adorned with precious stones rather than sticks or couches or any inexpensive or random item. There was something about jewels that could more easily hold a weave of magic, allowing mages to utilize them as conduits of power. Even merely existing, precious stones could potentially collect magic in a residual fashion which could be seen by a very talented and sensitive wielding of the aether.

"In the mountain," Malcador said breathlessly, clutching his staff like the wizened mentor who had taught him. He wondered how long the trek would last, and idly he took another sip of his waterskin. When he pulled it from his lips, the group had begun to move again. The sun beat down hot, and the bugs, though they had barely nipped Malcador, were large and cruel. He waved them away as best he could and continued on into the ferns and tropical trees as they traversed around the rocky outcroppings until they found a small pool.

A pool with an opening under the water.

"Oi, spellcaster!" Captain Bodaventure called, and Malcador was ushered to the front of the group. The sorcerer blinked and tried to stand tall. He blanched when the Captain ordered him to die.

"With respect sir, why me?"

"Because you got that water breathing spell, don'tcha?" Haldemar asked rhetorically.

Malcador was about to say he could cast that on anyone, but it became clear to him that the Captain only trusted the spell if Malcador did it to himself. With a sigh, he began to chant.

The commands were as follow: about three maids would investigate the ship and if needed distract those aboard, so the rest could go ashore unnoticed. A few would stay behind to guard the ship. Runa joined the crew in their expedition, as navigator she wanted to practice the art of map making too and thought this island to be a good project for a first try. The mountain, as Runa observed, was a nice anchor point to estimate distances.

“There’s a good chance those guys are after the same as us.” One of the maids commented as they stepped ashore. Runa only nodded, having her attention more on the surroundings than on the group.

The group consisted of a few maids, the captain and the boatswain, all armed to their teeth with their own signature weapons. Captain Eris Rose was an impressive woman, who could give comments with only a look. She didn’t intervene much with the maids, but there were these rare occasions when the crew would celebrate a good year or the succession of a hard victory and Captain Rose would chime in, showing a side that could only be described as exuberant. No one knew much about their captain though, which was probably one of the reasons Runa liked her so much.

The captain locked eyes with one of the maids, and gestured for her to scout ahead. Trish, not really a girl anymore, but still a bit too young to be seen as a woman, walked ahead through the light sand and was mostly trying to find tracks of the people that went before them. It didn’t took her long to find something of a cleared out path that went into the tropical forest and waved back at her party. The captain gave a slight nod.

“Alright ladies, let’s find ourselves some diamonds and pearls.” The boatswain bellowed, only to add more casual: “Oh and in case we encounter our beloved explorers, make sure we give them a smashing surprise.” The maids chuckled, Runa rolled her eyes, but they all moved through the cleared path carefully. This way it would take more time, but the captain wanted to exploit the advantage they had to its fullest. Runa was walking behind Trish, she figured it was the best place to see where they were heading and hoped she could memorize their way enough to make some use out of it. Although the path was cleared for the most part, bugs made no difference between one party or the other and the occasional suppressed yelp or ‘ieks’ was to be heard, followed by a hushed “sssh”.

The crew must have walked a few hours before they started to hear voices up ahead. Trish and Runa paused for a moment to look back and wait for a command. It was time to split up the party and sneakily start surrounding the bastards that stood between a pirate crew and their riches.

Malcador surfaced, taking in lungfuls of air as he did so. Even with his water-breathing incantation, it didn't feel natural breathing underwater. Air was far more accommodating to the human body regardless of magic. Ironically, as soon as he had found fresh air, the glittering sight took his breath away. Before his eyes was a mound of gold and jewels, scattered amongst the hard rocks of the inner cavern. Small beams of light shot into the sanctum from holes in the rock from years of erosion.

The water had cleared his sinuses at least, and he felt somewhat refreshed after the seasickness. He swore he wasn't as bad as he used to be, but long trips at sea were not his forte. Funny enough, it seemed swimming helped him out in an odd way. He put his feet on the stone in the shallow area and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. He had another few minutes of water breathing, and though he was loathe to leave the treasure, he knew he needed to get back to the fellows waiting outside.

He delved back into the murk, making his way through the tunnel with what little light filtered in. It was just about twelve meters once one was fully submersed, and when Malcador made it to the other side, he was murk had congregated at the top of the pond above. Curious, he continued upwards, surfacing and expelling a breath, coughing up water. He was greeted by the screams of the last of his crew, getting impaled and cut into pieces by what looked to be a motley crew of women.

The murk on the surface turned out to be blood, it seemed. Malcador splashed some away and tried to brainstorm on what to do now. He could go back under, but they would just follow him. No spell he had could destroy them all, and even if it could, was he supposed to sail and entire ship back by himself? Realizing there was little he could do, he cleared his throat and looked at the women sheepishly. He raised his hands out of the water to show he was unarmed and said:

"I can lead you to the booty, ladies." In a quiet voice. Luckily for him, people told him he could charm himself out of a death trap. Hopefully, they were not lying.

Ripples in the water had caught Runa’s attention as she eyed over the shoulder of the man she had just pierced her knife in. She looked back at her captain and pointed towards the water with a gesture of her head.
Just as her captain wanted to take a look, a man came out, coughing up water and seemingly surprised by how he found, what she could only assume, his crew. Some maids started to whistle as the man raised his hands above the surface, while others just smirked at his situation.

Runa pushed the dead man in front of her out of her way, eyeing the other warily and ready to act if necessary. He was definitely different from the other men that lay dead at their feet. She could tell by the looks of him that he wasn’t used to the seafaring life, his appearance was far too refined for that even with all the murk covering him, which made the man look rather silly.

“Why would we need you for that, mudskipper?” Captain Rose’s voice was calm and reserved as she walked up to the man, looking down on him as she stood near the edge, but making sure she was out of reach. The boatswain stood right behind her, playing with her knife, keeping an eye on every movement he made.

Malcador had never been so afraid to be surrounded by pretty women.

Granted, he had never been surrounded by women that were weighing whether or not they wanted to kill him, so it was understandable. He gave a guilty smile and kept his hands where they could see them. Hair matted by the water, he slowly moved a bit out of his eyes so he could see them better. The Captain was daunting, and there was a pretty pale woman that watched him like a hawk. He couldn't defeat them all, but maybe if he swam away he could do something to bar their passage. It wasn't a good, long-term plan, however.

"I'm the resident mage of the Seawalker. I uh, see you've gotten acquainted with the rest of the crew." Malcador deadpanned, curling his lip in nervous disgust at the blood lapping in the water. He cleared his throat and fixed his hair a bit more, whipping his head for a moment. "Well, you see, other than my winning personality and good looks, I also happen to know exactly where some treasure is if you'd like to be escorted. Though you'll need to be a good swimmer, admittedly."

He looked at them with uncertainty, and gave a small wave to the boatswain who twiddled with her knife. "If you're interested, all I ask is that you spare my life. That sounds pretty easy, right? Just...not killing me? Yeah?"

“Ah, a mage. It’s been a while since the last time I met one.” Captain Rose grinned at the sight of him being disgusted by the blood of his fellow men. “We didn’t had the time really, to get acquainted. You see, It would have lacked the surprise of their.. heroic ending.” Her voice was almost as sweet as honey, the words came out as if spoken by a lady. Not quite the pirate slang that would be expected.

Hushed laughter could be heard from the maids, knowing all too well that this man was a cat’s toy to be played with. His charms didn’t make it any better. Though it seemed all fun and games, Runa was still on her guard. She didn’t know much about mages, but she could imagine that they probably kept a trick up their sleeve in cases like this.

The captain raised her hand to her mouth as she thought on his proposition, tapping it lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Hmm.. escort us to the treasure and spare your life.. I feel like I’m granting you two wishes there..” She slowly walked along the edge of the pool, eyeing him every so often. At one point she stopped and bended down towards him. “Only on one condition. You’ll serve as our ship mage for as long as needed.”

Runa was taken aback by this idea. She had been member of the ‘Dreadful Lady’ for a few years now, but never ever had a man be part of the crew. Other sounds of protest were to be heard as well. The boatswain frowned and mumbled something incomprehensible. But all were hushed by a plain raise of the captain’s hand, which after that, summoned Runa and Trish to step forward as the captain stood up again.

“These girls would be in need of.. escorting, if you’d agree to my condition. Food and lodging aboard included of course.” The captain gave only a faint smile as she placed her hands on the back of both girls, pinching them a bit which they both knew to be a sign to act accordingly. Runa sighted hardly noticeable, but her annoyance as she rolled her eyes was something different. She hated this part and had rather stayed behind. Trish on the other hand, was very obedient and loved to play along, as she showed by shyly blinking with her long eyelashes at the mage. Runa was less motivated to play along, but did what was expected of her and slowly started to unbutton her blouse.

The captain awaited his reply. "So, what do you say, Mudskipper?"

On the one hand, shivering in water that was slowly being diluted with blood did not do wonders for one's libido. On the other hand, Malcador was not necessarily like most men. Horror mixed with arousal was an unplanned for and strange, but an oddly compelling feeling. He could feel his heart pumping, and evidently it was working double time to send a lot of blood to another part of his anatomy. The fluttering lashes and the swell of their bosoms were a welcome sight to the overworked sorcerer. Normally he was suave enough to charm the girls without needing to think on it, but pledging himself to a pirate crew?

Well, he guessed it beat dying, and the benefits...

"Yes!" He cried, raising his hand like a boy that was called on at the academy of sorcerers. No no no, don't be too eager. Women can smell eagerness. He cleared his throat, regaining a bit of his dignity. "I mean, I would be honored to be including in such an auspicious crew. You are too kind, Captain."

He didn't know anyone's names yet, but that could come later. Instead, he waved whoever wished to follow to join him in the water. His spell would last roughly another minute, but it was honestly close enough to swim without needing the likes of a spell. He just liked to have it for insurance. Malcador was 'aesthetically' fit, as in, he was lean and trim of muscle and could be athletic when he needed to be, such as when he was required to swim swiftly. However, he wasn't 'functionally strong.' Get him to haul crates or pull men up from the water and he would be exhausted pretty soon after the experience.

Oddly enough, he didn't have that same problem in bed.

"Also, I am called Malcador Ravenwood. I am an adept of the Mythrim Tethir." He replied auspiciously. "I would bow before my new crew, but I don't want to slap my face into the water. Plus there's treasure to gather, ladies. Shall we go?"

A few maids bursted into laughter by the sight of his enthusiasm, yet there were also those who shook their heads in disagreement and had a much less friendly expression on their face. Runa’s was one of those. Luckily her blouse didn’t reveal her breasts that easily, for she had wrapped them in soft linen strokes of fabric.

A shadowy smile appeared on the captain’s face. “Splendid.” She looked back at her crew and divided it into two parties, one to go with the mage and the other one to clean up the mess they had made. As she stood with her back to the man, the boatswain took her aside for a moment, whispering in her ear: “Are you sure about this? Even though the maids adore you, making a man part of the crew is stroking the cats against their hairs.” The captain locked eyes with the woman next to her and placed her hand reassuring on her shoulder as she nodded. “Don’t you worry, he’ll be as comfortable as we make it.”

Runa, Trish and a few other, more stout women joined the man in the water. Once Runa was in the water, she immediately took a deep breath and went underwater, ensuring that the murk wouldn’t get to much in her clothes and hair. She quickly passed the mage, and couldn’t help to “accidentally” kick her foot against his crotch as she swam on, giving him the message that the captains wishes wouldn’t also mean that he was accepted by the crew. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, they were in no need of a mage. This flimsy tunnel was easily reached without one too, all be it that not everyone would find it so. Still with some effort there was no need for magic. It annoyed her beyond measure.

But that annoyance had to make place for some sheer wonder as she came to the surface and saw the shimmering shine of gold and gemstones. Her eyes reflected it for a moment. She loved the first site of a well hidden mystery. It gave her the chills and it always took her a while to recover from the beauty. Though it often was a far more immaterial feeling that took hold of her, as the raw essence beyond the glimmering surface was what lured her the most and let her forget everything around her.

Malcador did not think it would be 'smooth sailing' as they say from there, and the crotch shot conveyed the message all too well and reinforced his prior plan of being careful to not 'rock the boat.' He was also quickly running out of sailing puns to share with himself, as well. Once he regained his breath, he took a deep one and dived back under, knowing he'll feel that crotch kick for at least a few hours and probably the next day. Why did they always go for the nether regions when they were mad!?

Malcador did his best to keep out of the way of the ladies, that were swimming like mermaids he noticed, through the small tunnel, using the rocks as handholds to propel himself forward quickly. He was athletic, but these sailors were born for the water. Soon, the small group surfaced. The spell of water-breathing had just about run out, and holding his breath had been insurance. He would need to hold it again, likely, since he doubted they would let him cast a spell without cutting his throat.

Even having seen it before, Malcador was in awe of the glimmering treasure, sparkling like the light of creation. His dark eyes absorbed the light and it only seemed to enhance the depths of them. He could buy a fief with this gold, and use the jewels to hire a household guard for all of their lives! He swam past Runa, who's name by that point he was unsure of, and slowly climbed out of the pool, careful not to slip on the rocks. He still almost slipped, but caught himself before he was injured and smiled sheepishly.

Taking a coin, he flicked it with a small gesture of his thumb. The gold coin spun in a blur before he caught it with a deft hand. Malcador had always had skillful fingers. One needed it to cast the more complicated spells, and it had served him well with the ladies. He motioned for them to come forward, giving a devil-may-care smile that could win the hearts of many a young maiden.

"Well, let's take what we can." He remarked pragmatically and hopefully in a way that sounded helpful. He was certainly trying to be, if so he wouldn't get kicked in the balls again. "I'm sure it'll take a few trips and I don't think we can fit some of the larger pieces through the tunnel and not drown, but I'll grab what I can and you can search me once we get to the other side. I'm not about to steal from you after we made a deal, after all."

Runa startled almost unnoticeable as Malcador appeared beside her. Her eyes narrowed by the sight of him, but it did return her to the present moment and she followed him out of the water, briefly shaking her head as she saw him struggle. The other maids followed easily and were just as in awe and cheerful as they saw the treasure, glad to know that the efforts had and would pay off.

Trish was one of the latest to come to the surface and took a few deep breaths before she was able to swim to the edge. Her eyes went to Malcador as he was tossing the coin around, not yet drooling by the sight of it. Runa followed her gaze, only to look back again with a look that clearly said ‘You really let yourself be fooled by some tricks?’ She grunted softly and lended her friend a hand, since she always had a little trouble with climbing for some reason.
“Don’t forget to focus.” She mumbled as she grabbed her friend by the arm.
“Oh I will.” Trish answered with her eyes still on the man as she scrambled onto the rocks.
“Ugh, you’re the worst.”

Runa and Trish came to their feet and upon hearing his voice, they all looked at him for a moment. First their expressions were rather blank, but it changed a little grimmer at the words “I’ll grab what I can”, though some eased again as he finished his sentence. Some nodded in agreement and started to collect pieces of treasure. A few even took out their shirts to use it as some kind of bag.

Runa observed it all for a moment. Then her voice sounded through the cave, cold and harsh. “Why don’t you use your magic?” A frown accompanied her serious expression, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Trish quietly pulled on her and said hushed: “Runa, come on, just start collecting.” But she waved her friend away. “No, he became part of our crew as a mage, then he better start acting like one.” Her eyes pierced through him. “Until now I’ve only seen a landlubber who got lucky..”

The others were getting all they could carry, but stopped for a moment as they heard Runa speak. Some maids made agreeing sounds, while others just shook their heads and sighed, whispering to each other: “There she goes..”

Malcador felt he needed to be more careful than he already had been. Every move he made, these girls were watching him, which of course, was understandable. Though they could certainly trust in his self interest and admittedly, his libido. As it was, as tempting as the gold was, he knew if he played along he would get a cut of it. Getting out of this partnership alive was mostly what he desired, however. It always paid to be pragmatic.

Malcador started to grab whatever gold and jewels he could put in varying pockets and pouches of his mage apparel, which was not quite a robe but it did have a flowyness and was made of varying overlapping weaves of fabric. Some might call it a robe, but Malcador knew the difference well enough. Either way, it gave him a lot of places to stuff things and so he did, making sure none of the sharper diamonds were anywhere near his nether regions. Once he was halfway through his collecting, the women caught his attention.

Why did they have to take their shirts off and make him stare? With a will he focused more on the gold, but it was only seconds until they caught his attention again, this time by name.

"I mean..." He started, shrugging. "I can cast my magic if you'd like, I just figured you wouldn't trust me to use it. But very well, as you wish." He gave a low bow, which caused some gold to spill out back into the pile. He paid no attention to it and began to rhythmically chant, waving his hands back and forth as his voice took an echoing, powerful quality to it. Sparks jumped from his fingers for the briefest of moments, and with a flourished he called forth with a word of power.

The pile of gold that had yet to be collected (except for a few small mounds the other girls could easily grab) began to float and coalesce around the mage, as if they were bees and he was a bear attacking their nest, though they never touched his skin. Instead they merely floated there, and he thanked the Gods he had learned the accompany spell. He couldn't do everything but it made this a whole lot easier.

"I'll swim first, because if you touch these, there's a good chance some of them might be dispelled. But come behind me and gather up the ones that fall. We should have them all out of these caves in half the time, now. Yes, yes, I know, I am hansdome and amazing." He said, giving a grin that showed his white teeth.

Runa’s eyes squinted more as he worded his assumptions, though it wasn’t a strange thought to have of course. It made her aware that he could indeed do something against them and she grabbed her little dagger that she kept hidden in her boots, just in case. Her eyes followed his every move, hoping she would see it if he chose to make himself scarce. Yet she had never seen a mage cast magic before, let alone right in front of her. If anyone would ask she wouldn’t admit it, but she was getting mesmerized by it. Her eyes were wide in surprise as she saw the sparks jumping from his fingers and not much later, the coins floating around as honeybees.

The other maids were surprised as well and paused their hoarding to see what the mage was doing. Trish, of course, was full amazement and excitement, not yet clapping and jumping like a little child.

Runa came back to her senses as she heard his instructions and nodded slowly. Hadn’t he made that last comment, she might even considered him not too bad. But alas, he did. And the smug face didn’t make it any better.
Her hostile expression came back with a roll of her eyes. “More like arrogant and flaunting I would say.” She mumbled in return, which resulted in a poke and a scolding look from Trish, whispering: “He did what you asked him to, didn’t he? A little thank you won’t hurt.”
Runa gave her friend a dead stare, but she knew Trish made a point and answered with a hushed grunt: “Fine.” As she looked back at the mage she let out a small “thank you” begrudgingly and waited for him to jump in the water to follow him once more.

Malcador climbed down the rocky decline and knelt by the water, just beside a few of the women of his 'new crew.' He was a bit surprised at Runa's thanks, and he wasn't too big headed to not acknowledge it. He gave her a small, polite nod as he kept a ghost of a smile on his face. "Of course," he told her, and then he turned to Trish and gave her a bigger smile, a glint in his dark eyes.

He had not quite forgotten they had murdered an entire crew worth of men just an hour or two ago. However, just like most groups, no matter what horrendous things they did, they were at least loyal to each other. It showed they were not complete psychopaths, and given time he would be 'one of the crew' which meant he was also not a target. He hoped he could trust the Captain's deal in general.

Malcador slipped into the water, the coins following suit slowly. One of the girls poked a floating coin and it merely bounced back into place, following Malcador as if he had a powerful magnetic pull. One by one the gold pieces dropped into the water after him as he swam through the tunnel, very glad the sun was still up outside. He would hate to swim through even this short tunnel at night. He knew the spell was still active, but it was up to the girls to pluck whatever fallen coins there were on the rocky bottom.

Malcador surfaced, taking in a lungful of air and whipping his hair so he could see. The mage found the Captain there, waiting expactantly, along with the other members of the crew. There was still some blood in the water, but he had ascended in an area where it was less covered. Behind him, coins began to float out of the water before the crew's waiting eyes.

"Captain, lovely to see you. I heard you were looking for some treasure. I happened to find some when I was gallivanting around."

Trish was one beam of light as she got Malcador’s smile, which made Runa wanting to puke. Her friend was always so easily captured by a pretty face and some smooth words. Pretty little lamb that she was, it probably was too much effort to look beyond that. Maybe that was why they were such good friends. Runa would take the effort, she didn’t mind being the coldhearted shield if that would keep them save.

Some of the maids grabbed more of what they could carry, while the rest watched as their new maid disappeared in the water, followed by his disciples of gold. After a moment, the others slipped into the water, collecting what ever coins might be rebelling by floating down to the sands below.

Runa decided to stay behind, preparing the next load of treasure to be hauled away. Though it wasn’t really necessary. Mister Mage would swung by and do his magic tricks again. He had mentioned his name.. She thought on it for a moment. Decided she couldn’t care less. And changed her mind again. A name could be powerful, at least when used in the right way. It would be stupid to let that slight advantage she could have slip away. She frowned as she was moving things around. It had sounded rather fancy, of course. A mage's name was probably half of one's reputation. Her posture relaxed as she examined a rather rough looking gem. It looked dark and light at the same time. Fluctuating between translucence and solidness however it was being held. It was Ravenwood. Malcador Ravenwood.

An almost unnoticeable spark showed in the captain’s eyes as the coins appeared above the surface. She gave a slight nod as Malcador addressed her. The maids that had stayed behind were dragging bodies away to create space for the treasure. But with a few words of the boatswain they stopped and prepared some minor containers to put the loose coins in.
“Mage, can you direct the gold into these?” The captain formed it as a question, but it was clearly spoken as a command.

Malcador helped where he could, keeping the arcane weaves flowing and hauling what treasure he could. Three trips were made, and halfway through the third return swim, he was growing tired. Surfacing again, he gulped in air and floated for a moment. His strength, both physical and magical, was growing weak. He tried his best not to show it, however. Plucking a gem out of his pocket, he examined it, and then wiggled it for the women pirates to see as he raised his eyebrow in a suave manner.

The Captain's suggestion drew his attention away from showing off, and he tossed the gem to her and gave a tongue-in-cheek salute.

"Your wish is my command, Captain," He told her with a voice of silk. Granted, this was probably the last real spell he could cast before he had a meal and a drink, but it was hopefully all that was needed from him. He waded out of the water and trudged to the shallows, before he began to cast his next spell. An incantation flowed through his lips like a lullaby, and moments later, the coins began to slowly move towards the containers.

A few were wobbly, but thankfully the power went into the invocation and not the doing. The magic had already been cast, and so it would perform its due. Just to add some flair, Malcador closed his eyes and waved his hands like a musical conductor at an aristocratic orchestra. At the crescendo, the last of the treasure had filled the pots, and he opened his eyes. The women behind him crawled out of the pool to join their fellow crewmates.

He sighed somewhat tiredly and brushed some of his fringe out of his eyes. "So, I hope I have served admirably enough. But I am pretty spent as it is, at least magically. Is there more I can do for you, Captain, perhaps in a different fashion?"

He didn't mean to make it sound suggestive, but it did leave his lips that way. Well, if she was willing he wasn't going to argue. He noticed Runa glaring at him, however. He wondered what her problem with him was. So far he had been nothing but a help. In his own self interest, yes, but they did have a knife to his throat in a very real sense. Wouldn't they all do the same?

The captain saw beyond the mage’s appearance. In a way it was good to see his powers were weakening. The changes of an escape would be less. Yet it also ment, had he to be a proper pirate mage, his stamina had to match his bravado. There was work at hand. But that would come later, if he survived the way back and had not been stabbed in the back by one of the maids.
She looked up from her thoughts as Malcador addressed her and gave him a slight nod. With not too much interest she watched as he cast his spell, yet there was the slightest smile as he started to act as a musical conductor. Yes, too much bravado indeed. The other maids watched in amazement, for they had not ever seen such a thing happening in front of their eyes. A few giggled at the sight of coins moving to the bidding of the mage’s hands. The faint smile was still on the captain’s lips as she heard the suggestiveness in his tone and slowly shook her head. “Just about. Spare your strength for the way back. I do not want my maids to be needing to carry you, instead of the gold.”
She turned away to give orders to the others and whispered to the boatswain in the passing: “Do not let him out of your sight. I’m not in the mood for surprises.” Only a firm nod in confirmation.

Runa had just surfaced as she saw how Malcador was performing another spell. It seemed he had them all wrapped around his little finger. Though she knew that her captain would see through all this. It probably was all just a big scheme. Why else would she let a man join them?
Yet, at the back of her mind, there was a tiny voice emerging. What if it was a good thing they had found a mage? She glanced over at Trish, who rested against a rock as she had managed to get out of the water by herself in some way or another, glaring at the mage with a glimmer in her eyes. Sometimes Runa wished she was as easily swept of her feet as her friend. In moments like this, when her muscles felt sore and things felt strangely peaceful, she wanted nothing more than to be able to let her guard down. But doing so would be a mistake. Letting your guard down would only give others the opportunity to make advantage of the situation. And so she shook off the tiny voice in her head and climbed out of the water to join the parade back to the ship.

The way back seemed a lot longer, even though they were in a bit of a rush to stay ahead of the setting sun. As it turned dark, the wildlife and bugs were taking back more of their territory. With a small barrel on Runa’s shoulder, it made it all even more frustrating. Especially since she wouldn’t have the chance to pay attention to observing things for making the map. Luckily she wasn’t the only one grunting along the way. Having no need to surprise any men before them, more were exclaiming their annoyances. For some reason it was a bonding thing for the crew. Sometimes they even made a game out of it who was having the hardest time, making it all a bit more pleasurable. As most of the maids were given the task to carry the treasure back to the ship, only the boatswain was truly keeping an eye on Malcador.

They all had had a long day and couldn’t wait to be back at the ship, filling their bellies with warm broth and enjoying the satisfaction of having found the long awaited treasure. As the crew finally reached the beach, it wasn’t a wonder the ‘Dreadful Lady’ was a sight for sore eyes, making some of the maids sigh and quietly cheer in relieve.

Malcador shrugged, and gave the Captain a nod in acknowledgement. He was certainly trying to get her favor, but he also wasn't lying in his eagerness to serve or help out. What better way to prove he wasn't going to betray them at a moment's notice? As long as they gave him a comfortable place to sleep, good food, and perhaps some pleasant company, he would be as happy as ever.

He smoothed his drying hair as best he could, understandable making sure there were no leaves or lingering bits of old crew members on him. Whilst he wanted to live, he wasn't a suck-up either. Malcador was a relatively respected mage in the Mythrim Tethir and he also wanted to appear dignified, though he had a certain manner of vanity as well. Clearing his throat, he gave Runa and the others a nod as they walked past and he followed suit, the Boatswain tagging along to evidently keep him company.

The sun had not yet set, but the horizon was fiery and quite beautiful, and a gloom settled over the landscape. The soil they walked on wasn't quite hardened dirt, but it could sustain tree and plant life, and they weren't at the sands of the beach yet, either. As he followed, he noted the ship Skirmisher he had sailed in on being towed toward this new Galleon run by the ladies. He figured those men left on the Skirmisher would be sold off for ransom. Better than a sword to the gut or the hangman's noose. Oddly enough, despite their ruthless tendencies and the constant threat of death, it was oddly nice seeing the lady pirates sigh or cheer at the mere sight of their ship. No matter how you sliced it, home was home even to cutthroats and sailors.

"So do I report to you or the Captain on the conditions of my quarters and food?" He asked the Boatswain, simple and honest. If they were going to turn around and hang him they had wasted a lot of time, so he suspected he really was going to be put on the ship as a crew-member. If so, he did need to eat and sleep, and he doubted they would shove him in a communal sleeping area with the girls. He might not mind it but that would cause inevitable problems. "Also, what is the ship name and what is your name? I don't believe we have become acquainted yet."

He held out a hand, a small smile played on his lips. His voice was liquid chocolate, and only halfway because he attempted to make it so. Truth be told, he did have a nice voice.