(Post takes place Sunday the 4th of May)

A thick mist danced upon the waters of the harbor, casting a ghostly shroud over the Pride and Fury as her crew took in her lines preparing to set sail. The ships bell rang loudly calling all those who lingered on the dock saying their last goodbyes to board. The thick sound of the sails being set echoed through the early morning air, muffling the yelled goodbyes of those aboard.

Stephen stood at the helm staring into the mist, denying himself the hope of looking to the docks for a final goodbye from anyone, knowing no one would be there.

"Mr. Arnold lets take her to sea." Stephen spoke to his quartermaster, pausing to look at the face so unknown to him. He swallowed what misgivings he might have had about this new crew. He would come to know these men as he had the men in the past, and for now being a Captain with a reputation lately of taking poor prizes he would have to take what he could get.

The feel of the Pride and Fury sliding into the deeper waters of the harbor eased Stephen, for out here upon the water was where he felt at home. Now that there was some distance Stephen moved to the railing to watch Ryhdin disappear into the mists like some kind of dream he couldn't quite fully recall.