“If you insist,” the town crier said grinning. “I have news that Katrina the Kraken suffered a humiliating defeat. She lost two galleons fighting a single ship.”

To their credit, none of Maya’s crew reacted noticeably. Humbol’s eyebrow twitched upwards slightly and Cyll’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Their captain kept her poker face and raised an eyebrow.

“Is that really that important?” Maya asked. “Ships get sunk all the time.”

“Of course it is!” The town crier exclaimed, aghast. “The Kraken hasn’t lost a ship in years. She’s a menace. I’ve only got information from the town crier in Greenhill, but he said she might have underestimated her prey. Either way, this is a serious hit to her untouchable standing.”

“What do you mean?” Cyll asked.

“Well, now that she’s lost a fight against one ship, there are going to be a bunch of other upstarts that show up looking to fight her. They won’t actually manage to do much, but they might put enough stress on her that another pirate lord could take over her position.”

“That’s…interesting, I suppose,” Humbol said, rubbing his chin. “But why is that so important? It hardly seems worth bothering a room of injured patients for.”

“Bah, you’re all imbeciles. The ruler of Dredd’s Tomb, Orid, has been waiting for a chance to get back at Katrina for years. Now that she’s weak, there’s a very good chance he’s going to need the supplies to arm his own fleet. That means he’ll be allowing people past the third level of the tomb!”

“Are we not normally allowed past the third level?” Maya asked.

“Never got that deep, huh?” The crier asked, amused. “You probably won’t have to worry about this, then. But, for those of you strong enough to delve to level three, you would know that Orid restricted entry into the lower levels of the dungeon. He only allows his personal vassals to go beyond it.”

“Wonderful. More injured people I have to deal with,” Darcy said, heaving a sigh. “Now that you’ve told my patients how to kill themselves faster, could you kindly make yourself sparce? I have a job to do.”

“Fine, fine. Just remember, all. The entire dungeon is open, so make sure to bring back good loot. Orid pays very handsomely. One lucky run could let you retire,” the crier called before spinning striding out the door, his hat squishing to fit through the doorway before springing normal on the other side.

“Fantastic,” Darcy said. “Let’s get back to your injuries then.”

Maya nodded, doing her best not to look at her crew. The light surrounding Darcy’s hands flared once more. She moved her hands from the wound on the captain’s face to the other wounds across her body. Several minutes later, the light faded and the healer clapped Maya on the shoulder.

“That’s as good as I can do,” she said, a slight frown present on her face. “You’re quite lucky. You nearly lost your eye. I did what I could, but I don’t know how much you can see. It’s just been too long since you were wounded.”

Darcy pulled a small hand mirror from her belt and handed it to Maya. The captain took it, gingerly opening both of her eyes at the same time. She hissed and squeezed the scarred one shut – the room’s light nearly blinded her when she opened it.

She slowly opened it again, blinking furiously as her eye adjusted to the light. Large spots of darkness hovered in her vision, obscuring about half of her vision out of the wounded eye.

A thin scar ran down from the tip of the bottom of her forehead to the edge of her nose. She traced it with a finger, staring into the mirror silently. After a moment, Maya adjusted the torn hat on her head and rose to her feet.

“Thank you, Darcy. I appreciate your efforts,” Maya said. “Do you happen to have an eye patch or the like I could use?”

“I do,” Darcy said. “My apologies. It sounds like your vision did not return.”

“Not as much as I would have liked,” Maya agreed. “But that’s just life. It could have gone a lot worse.”

Darcy nodded, grabbing a dense bag and rooting through it until she pulled out a leather eyepatch. She offered it to the captain, who took it and slid it over her injured eye. A large part of the scar was still visible around it.

“You’ve got a good attitude. I think you’ll turn out all right,” Darcy said, giving the crew a nod. “I can tell you’re in good hands, so I’ll be off. I hope the next time we meet isn’t under this tent.”

“As do I,” Maya replied, sharing a smile with the woman.

She strode out of the tent, her crew falling in behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Cyll said once they’d left the tent. “If my knowledge wasn’t so outdated, I might–”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Maya ordered. “You heard her – you probably saved my life. There’s only so much we could do with what we had. I consider my eye a small price to pay for our survival. Now, focus on the more important information. We can access the lower levels of the dungeon.”

“As can everyone else,” Cyll muttered. “If there are this many people here, someone might find the secret entrance by sheer luck. If you throw enough shit against the wall, something will inevitably stick.”

“Exactly,” Maya said. “So that means we need to get there first. We’ve already gotten dealt our shit hand, and we made it through. It’s time to get ahead for once.”

Humbol grinned, nodding in agreement with his captain.

“I agree. And frankly,” the man leaned in slightly and lowered his voice, “We need to figure out a crew name before someone does it for us. The days of obscurity might be ending.”

“Goddamn it, I’m working on it,” Maya said, grimacing as they all burst into laughter.