Date: Twenty Fifth of March, year 810 Post Seminal War (810 PSW)

Job Arseoth weighed his options carefully. The Great Britannia would be slower and safer, but would also use up a third of his 'one to three month' estimate to Enra and the rest of his friends. Ultimately, this was the deciding factor in his decision. Risk of pirates be damned, he had made something of a promise and he intended to keep it. Besides, it looked like the Red Oak could use the help.

Glancing up and down her length, Job noted that the Red Oak was armed about as well as any other merchant ship. She had the needed swivel-mounts for 'wolves' on her sides. These were very small cannon, usually with a bore of one to three inches and firing canister or grapeshot, and intended to sweep the decks of attacking ships. They were far to light to actually sink a ship, but they also used far, far less gunpowder. This was decisive for most merchantmen, as the commonly available 'meal powder' was a nightmare to store in large quantities or for long periods of time. Cutting costs by needing to buy less every time it needed replacing was almost a natural reflex for them.

This meant that the Red Oak usually avoided attack by the simple means of turning into the wind and plowing on at a whopping fifteen knots. That much speed put a strain on her two magitech boilers and ate into the expected lifespan of her single turbine's gears at a ferocious rate, but it also meant that no sail-powered pirate could hope to catch her. Unfortunately, the pirates had started to cobble together magitech engines of their own, which was changing that equation.

Job found the Captian at the end of the dock eying the passers-by. He was a large man, sun-darkened by his time at sea, and lined with salt-stains.

"Looking for some extra firepower on you next voyage Captian…?"

"Henrich Haputman. Looking for a quick trip to Sapphire, or to stay on…?"

"Job Arseoth, Sorcerer. Just to Sapphire."

"Mmmh. Eight gold up front for the passage, and an eighth share to you if we get in any fights."

Job pulled out eight gold coins, "done and done. Expecting serious trouble?"

"Not really. Bit of a show of force and a bit of speed is enough to convince most scum to be looking for an easier target."

"Most?"

"Ehh… some of the nutcases are after our boilers and turbines."

"Which means boarding actions. Not going for bigger guns?"

Henrich shook his shaggy head, "na worth becoming a naval aux ship just for a four inch mount or two. Th' wolves do well enough. And with a bit of spell to back them, the pirates should sail away just as fast as the wind'll take them."

"Should."

"S' why I'm giving you an eighth share if we do get in a fight."

Job shrugged, "where do I stash my kit? 'S not like you're flowing over with passenger quarters."

"MAKAN!"

A half-orc looked up from the crate he was inspecting.

"Nob?"

"Show the Sorc to his quarters."

"can do, Nob."

Job followed the half-orc up the gangplank and onto the iron deck of the Red Oak.

"Been to sea before?"

Job shrugged, "nope, first time."

"Can't tell from the way you move. You've your sea-legs already. Wish I could cheat with magic like that."

"Eh… the required interesting life of a magic-user does have some perks I guess."