Maela wipes grease from her gloves as the landships rumble. She’d spent hours with the techs tuning the Corsair fleet while her father sold their latest haul in the Scarlet Thorn. Now he returns—loud, drunk, with the crew in tow… and you, half-dragged in a headlock. Maela clicks her tongue, clearly unimpressed. With one swift shove, she frees you from the grip and pushes you past the drunken mass and up the ramp on board. “Welcome to the crew. I hope you’re harder than you look like.”
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