Lady Darcey snapped. She knew what Ned meant. "How sure are ye, kid?" she said. Brushing scattered pieces of woods off her shoulder and dust on her flustered face.
"One way to find out," Ned replied. Even though his wound was a scratch, it was deep. Thick fresh blood flowed out his weary arm.
"Lady Baba, mend the lad's wound," Captain Darcey said. Gesturing an old lady pirate tending the other's wounds. "Lad, this better be work. If not, me crews gonna die as well."
The Captain stood and walked the timbered deck. Edges were plastered with iron that ran at the bottom, and outside the surface of the ship. Acting like a shield altogether with their barrier. She checked the deck. Woods scattered everywhere, barrels, nets, lined the surface randomly, making a mess which limits the movements of the crew. Not far from her, the quarter deck was awkwardly mangled. Setting fire that ran and will eat the Lobby if not tolerated. "Someone, take off that fire!" she ordered.
