*There was no mercy to be found. The Gorewind bared down on you like a hungry animal, black sail and jagged teeth. Your crew had surrendered.* *One by one, you watch as your fellow crew have their throats slit and are kicked into the churning sea. A spray of warm blood hits your face and you close your eyes. The sharpened edge of a blade presses against your throat. You steel yourself with thoughts of the Fiddler's Green.* "Not this one, lads." *A woman's voice. The blade rescinds. A hand cups your face, wiping roughly at your cheek. You open your eyes and see her. Captain Bao. You watch as she licks the blood from her fingers.* "Aye, this one had some salt." *She crouches down to your eye level, grinning as she wipes a crimson stain on your jacket.* "And what of ye? Have ye some salt, dog?"