A cold wind slid over the deck of The Bloodhelm. It was evening and the corsair ship had just come through a fierce storm. A fat searat with one ear, clumped over to a tall weasel standing by the ship's rail. "Uh,Cap'n. the crew is fixin' a broken beam but everythn' else is shipshape." The weasel was silent. The rat bosun gulped and tried again, "Er, Cap'n I said..." "I heard you Faggra." The weasel turned and stared hard at the searat. He was a tall, muscular vermin with a red sash and a round helmet. He had identical bracelets with metal spikes around them. At his side was a long, narrow scimitar thrust into a red belt studded with sharp metal spikes. His eyes were black and cold as ice. Drawing his scimitar, he pointed with it at a speck on the horizon. "Tell me Faggra, what do you thin