Legends of Runeterra

They were greeted by a pair of stern-faced twins in leather trousers and fish-scale shirts. They were stationed at the side of the ship, and upon seeing them, they took Sarah's pistols and Raven's swordfish-mouth dagger. Both fierce women were muscular, their faces angry, but not drunken. It was clear that they would rather be on shore attending a rum party in Yalai's memory than being left behind, facing a group of captains and watching their ulterior motives and their playful actions.

One of the twins wore a helmet made from the skull of a swift crab, and armor pieced together from crab shells. The other had a face tattooed with staring eyes—he smiled as he studied the work of a renowned gunsmith. Sarah saw her jaw, pierced by sharp scales.

Sarah followed them to the foredeck and noted where the confiscated weapons were stored. Among the three boxes, the one with the shell marks was on the right.

In front of the chest, on a jet-black mount, sat a massive bronze cannon. Its blackened muzzle was now sealed shut with wax, and Captain Yalai, with his sails wrapped around him, must be inside, marinated in rum, vinegar, and camphor, ready for his voyage to the sea.

"It's a shame to throw away such a beautiful woman," Sarah said. "I'm talking about the cannon."

"Yes," Raven agreed. "I've never seen a better thirty-pounder. But it's tradition, and traditions can't be messed with, right?"

"Right..." Sarah said, shifting her gaze to the cannon, where a broad-shouldered figure stood motionless. "If we break tradition, we'll have to rely on Mother Hu to help us."

He was clad in a robe covered in iridescent scales, his hood shaped like a fish's head, edged with razor-sharp teeth. He carried a hooked machete emblazoned with octopus tentacles, and Sarah knew immediately who he was.

"It is a rare honor for the captain to have a snake caller with him when he goes out to sea," she said.

"What the Golden Siren can do is always beautiful, don't you think?" Raven responded.

Beneath a jagged hood, the Serpentcaller priest wore a hollow coral mask, and over his eyes and forehead was a dried squid with two crudely cut eyeholes. The priest surveyed the assembled captains.

The vast decks were packed with Bilgewater's bandits, all dressed in their finest attire: long trench coats, polished leather boots, top hats... and even quaint armor—capable of dragging the wearer to the bottom of the sea if they accidentally fell in. Sarah saw countless gold and silver badges and medals, necklaces made of baru fish hooks, and amulets dedicated to the lords and ladies of the sea.

Some of the captains she knew—usually from fighting and drinking matches—and some she had only heard of.

Of course, everyone here knows her.

With her fiery red hair, pale skin, and confident demeanor, Sarah Doom is hard to miss anywhere. But on this ship, she's a wild rose amidst a sea of poisonous thorns.

"What a meeting, eh?" Raven said.

“Nothing unites people like death,” Sarah said.

Raven nodded and said, "Now I know what it's like to be a fat Ranger surrounded by a pack of hungry Tooth Sharks."

Sarah shook her head. "You got it backwards, man. I'm the tooth shark here."

Raven didn't reply, as Sarah strode toward the centerline and back again. She adjusted her pace to the movement of the deck. Just as every pistol has its own personality, every ship has its own way of catching wind and waves. With every step, she felt the ship's rolling and swaying at anchor, letting the weathered deck wood groan and creak under her feet.

"A rolling water boat that can navigate shallow waters," she said. "I didn't expect it to be so wide."

"I like the broad type." Raven said, subconsciously widening the distance between his feet.

"I heard something."

"Although not as nimble as a wavecutter," Raven ignored her sarcasm, "I'd bet a whole bottle of Malon Black that she could hold you securely against her chest even in the high waves."

"She certainly has it, Raven," a tall, thin woman said. She wore a pale blue trench coat with gold trim at the cuffs and brass tassels on her epaulets. "She's an old maid. She once sank the Darkwill Glory and even pierced a few holes in the Red Noxtora. It's a shame that the fog in Mudtown saved that long-dead wretch."

A salt-stained, hardened, two-horned captain's hat was tilted on her shaved head. Her eyes were like two poached eggs in a fish soup. Sarah could tell that she had already drunk a lot of wine. Her skin had a sallow color, as if she had just returned from a long ocean voyage.

"Captain Blackstone," Raven said, "I heard you were dead."

“Every sunset in Bilgewater, a rumor spreads that I’m dead,” the woman said. “And every time it spreads, men weep for me, and their wives curse and scold me. I can assure you, I’m very much alive and well.”

She turned to Sarah, bowed, and offered her a hand.

Sarah took her hand, alert at once. Although Braxton was tipsy and his grip was light, she could feel the calluses of hard work and the roughened skin at the base of her palm from the gunpowder burns.

"Marla Blackston, at your service, Captain Doom," she said, releasing Sarah's hand. "I've just returned from a year of plundering the Amaranth Coast. The seas there are clear and the skies blue, and the settlements along the coast are fertile, with enough gold stored up that a captain could spend in ten lifetimes."

"That's great," Sarah said, "so why did you come back from a place like that?"

"Good times don't last long, you know. The residents of those settlements don't quite understand what it means to 'own' and 'live'. Moreover, they can also summon some strange wizards who cast spells I have never seen before and turn the sea and sky into enemies."

"Ah, so your ship is destroyed," said Raven.

"A few destroyed," Blackston admitted, waving his hand dismissively. "It's just a temporary setback, Raven. I can always roll back and start over."

"For example, recruit a group of newcomers and a brigantine suitable for sailing on shallow waters?" Sarah asked tentatively.

"Anything is possible," said Blackston, laughing, and bowed again, and returned to the foremast to join the throng of captains around the rum barrel.

Sarah's heart tightened as she saw a familiar face, the face of an enemy.

Raven saw him too and grabbed her arm.

"Don't forget the truce," he whispered urgently.

Sarah didn't answer, all her attention was on the person in front of her.

She pulled her arm free and walked towards him, keeping her face expressionless.