<div class="floatleft">(https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/015/002/171/large/kii-weatherton-brandon-sosh.jpg?1546661174)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Kirazi "Kira" Wickedear (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2459377)<br/></span></span><hr/><em>Lvl 2 Barbarian(Sea Reaver), 2 Bard(Sea Singer)</em><br/><strong>HP:</strong>50/50<br/><strong>AC:</strong>18<br/><strong>Standard Perception:</strong>+6<hr/><br/>Kira sat sprawled in a chair picking her nails with a dagger across the table from the half elves. She was never very sociable on dry land, and the half-orc had been growing into a fouler mood of late. The longer the survivors partied in port seemed to wear on her already prickly nature. She had even ignored the tankard of piss warm grog the Mare's wenches brought to the group's table for her. So when Kazael broke the festivities kicking the strumpets, hangers-on, and whores out, she sat up and slammed her dagger four inches into the table top.<strong> <em>*SMASH!*</em> </strong>The force cracked the wood and sent a few stray drinks flying.<strong>"About damned time! You lot heard the man! Ifin' yer not part of the crew OUT!"</strong>She bellowed glaring at the strangers.<br/><br/>Once the crew was alone, she slouched back in her chair, and snatched her dagger back up from where she had imbedded it. She pointed the blade at Kazael. "I assume you've been looking into things, apart from glory hole's, Kazael." She waved the dagger around in loose circles as she spoke. "Cause from where I sit, yer captain of nothin' but yer tiny prick without a proper ship. Magic trinkets or not." She smirked as she slowly lowered the point of the blade till it was aimed at the half elf's crotch. "So what're the details?"<br/><br/><hr/><strong>GM Notice:</strong>Nothing.