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The surprise attack had been a spectacular show of firepower. A smoky haze drifted between both ships, the air thick with the smell of burning timber and gunpowder. The sound of the thunderous roar from the ship's cannons had left a dull ringing in Sig's ears, but he couldn't have been happier with the damage the broadside had caused. He had been in enough ship-to-ship firefights to recognize a devastating blow when he saw one and amid the screams of agony that washed over him from the enemy frigate, he found himself smiling. He was no longer the same man whom had awoken from a nightmare earlier this morning as an insatiable drive for vengeance had replaced any notion of fear or doubt in his mind. Nothing else matter to him from this moment onward, not until the raven-hair fox was dead. Here and now - this is where the score would be settled.

"Grapples!" he yelled over the cries of both crews, their war cries melting into a roar of white noise.

Metal hooks began to fly through the air as the crew of each ship flung their own to the opposing vessel. The barbed tips clanked against the deck and dug into anything they could find be it rope, gunwale, or flesh, it made no difference.

Foot by foot, the frigates were drawn closer together. Both ships' cannons now unusable, Sig knew they were moments away from close-quarter combat. Boarding axes, cutlasses, and pistols were in the hands of his crew who were ready to wage battle against an enemy who he knew would be there to meet them. Sig's claws dug into the wood of the gunwale as the ships grinded against each other, the two vessels groaning as they settled.

The creaking of wood subsided and prompted Sig to take hold of a nearby line with one hand before gingerly leaping onto the wooden balustrade. Taking a few quick steps towards the stern, he kicked off and sailed over the gap behind the two vessels in a gentle arc. He quickly picked the spot where he would board the enemy frigate and noted the sailors who stood in his path. His free hand grasping one of the pistols that he had tucked into his belt, he took aim at the closest foe and fired.

The unsuspecting sailor dropped dropped to the deck amid a spray of blood and gray matter as the musket ball bore through his skull. The surprise of his fellows didn't last long though as they abruptly turned their attention skyward and spotted their assailant. One raised a saber at him while the other drew a pistol, but before either could exact their revenge, a volley of musket fire pelted the ship and forced them to take temporary cover. Never one to pass up on an opportunity, Sig released his grip and dropped into the fray.

Sig hit the deck hard and rolled forward with his momentum. Up in a flash and with weapons drawn, he was ready for battle. He leapt at the two men without wasting more than a precious breath. He slashed the throat of the sailor who held the pistol off to his right and parried a blow from the other off to his left. Catching the surviving mariner off balance, Sig stabbed at him from the side with the blade already bathed in blood and pierced the man between his ribs. He felt the man shudder from the blow and put a quick end to him by bringing the sword held in his left hand across the sea dog's throat. With an audible thump, the mariner slumped to the ground.

He pulled his cutlass free of the dying man and surveyed the mayhem that had taken over the deck. His men were pressing hard against the crew of the Vanquisher and looked to be holding the advantage. The sounds of swords clashing and the frequent pops of small arms fire stood out to him amid the mix of battle cries and cries of agony. Smirking, he turned towards the stern of the frigate to seek out the vulpine.

It didn't take long for him to spot her. She stood on the aftcastle of her ship, her black hair blowing gently in the breeze as her ears stood tall and alert. A long black and faded yellow coat covered most of her auburn fur while a clean white blouse and tight black pants hid the rest. He could feel her gaze upon him - she was waiting for him.

Sig's path to her forced him to engage several mariners who had the misfortune meeting him. He dispatched each quickly and efficiently enough, none able to stand before the typhoon of flashing steel. Without even slowing to catch his breath, he pressed onward and left the dead and dying in his wake.

His gaze remained locked on the fox as his feet carried him up the steps to meet her. The sounds of chaos behind him faded away as he focused only on the sounds around him. Spotting only a cutlass in one hand and a dagger tucked into her belt, confidence took hold of him. It's time to end this, he thought.

"Hello, Sig," she cooed.

Suppressing a snarl, he returned the greeting. "Hello, Morrigan."

She stood on the other side of the ship's wheel, feet apart and cutlass held before her. As Sig began to round the wheel, she moved opposite of him. She found herself walking in a slow circle around the obstacle to keep him beyond arms reach for the moment. "That was quite a trick you pulled there. I'm impressed."

Sig scoffed in response.

" So tell me, how much did it cost you to convince a magus to come aboard your ship?"

"Not nearly as much as you might think," he replied, "but judging how my day is going so far, I would say it was worth every gold coin I paid her."

"Oh, a woman then? I didn't think you wanted women aboard your ship," Morrigan mocked. "She must be quite cute then."

"Quiet, you," Sig spat between clenched teeth.

She chuckled in response, a wry smile spreading across her lips. "You were always so easy to goad."

"Enough!" Sig shouted and leapt forward with cutlasses at the ready.

Morrigan responded in kind and brought her own blade to bare. Her sword sang against his twin cutlasses, her quick reflexes aiding her in parrying strike after strike. For the attacks that slipped through her defense, she graciously sidestepped and moved out of the way. Morrigan was clearly better with the sword that he was. After dozens of attempts and failures, he was beginning to visibly tire and lose patience. Obviously, things were not going the way he had envisioned.

He swiped to the side with the sword held in his left hand and upon seeing an opening, lunged forward with his right. Much to his dismay, however, she had evaded him once more. Before he could recover though, he felt the flat of Morrigan's blade slam down hard onto his right wrist. A wave of agony coursed up his arm and the blade slipped from his grip. The shock came only second, however, to the fist that abruptly made contact with his face and sent him reeling backwards.

Sig shook his head from the blow and saw Morrigan standing her ground before him, grinning. The bitch wasn't even breaking a sweat. Annoyed and seeking to gain the upper hand, he drew his last remaining pistol from his belt and aimed it at the vulpine.

"You have no honor!" she roared.

"This isn't about honor," Sig retorted. "This is about avenging my brother."

Anger flashed across her face as she took a step back. "Your brother? You would sacrifice your ship and the lives of your men to settle a score?"

"He was my little brother and a man has a responsibility to his family."

"If you can't see what this obsession has done to you, then you are a fool of a captain," she snarled. "You've become a vengeful bilge rat that has no right captaining a ship."

Sig pulled the trigger with no further hesitation. Morrigan had stood no more than a few paces away and despite his shot firing straight and true, he missed. Damn, she's quick! he thought. He tossed the pistol aside and raised his cutlass to meet hers in an instant. Her face inches from his own, she angrily snapped her teeth at him.

His free hand pressed against the back of his blade and gave him the need leverage to push her away. With the help of a quick kick to her stomach, he found himself with a moment's amount of breathing room between them. He watched Morrigan rub her stomach with her paw as he moved the cutlass to his dominant hand and was ready to fight once more.

Their blades rang over the aftcastle as the rest of the ship was embroiled in a battle of its own. Sig's strikes were met with parries and Morrigan's ripostes avoided and countered. The two danced around each other as each looked to press an advantage before the other could do the same. It didn't take long before Sig spotted an opening in Morrigan's defense and jumped at the opportunity.

He lunged at her and felt resistance as his blade sliced through her blouse and across her flesh. She immediately stepped away from him and clutched her side with her free hand. Blood seeped out from between her fingers and Sig knew that while the cut was deep, it was not fatal. Seeing it as a sign that he was gaining the upper hand in their fight, he knew that he could not give her the leeway to recover in the slightest. He raised his sword up high and without wasting another moment, came down on where she stood.

Morrigan saw the sun glint off Sig's blade and knew she would have to act fast. Suppressing the pain, she threw herself forward into a slide and dove between his legs. With a swift kick to the back of his legs, she sent him stumbling forward. The yowl of pain as Sig's right wrist slammed against the hard wood of the wheel and the sight of the sword clattering to the deck was all the motivations she needed. She pushed herself up and closed the gap between them with incredible speed. Turning him around to face her, she pressed her left forearm against his chest to hold him still while she held her dagger up against his neck. Looking into his sea green eyes, she saw nothing but emptiness and rage, vengeance having washed everything else away.

"Finish it," he spat. "Be done with it."

His words upset her more than they should have. Her muscles flexed as if to cut his throat, her gut telling her that it was the right action to take, but found herself held back by a voice that called out to her from the back of her mind. Snarling, she pulled the blade away from his throat and buried it through his shoulder instead.

Sig howled in agony as a wave of fire washed over him. His body shuddered as he looked at the dagger and saw that much to his dismay, she had hilted it right up against his flesh. He swallowed hard and moved his hand instinctually to remove the foreign object from his body. A firm slap across the face stopped him short.

"You touch it and I'll take out one of your eyes!" she snapped.

He knew at that moment that any chance of coming away from this encounter victorious was lost to him. From this point onwards, his fate was firmly in her hands. He let his hand drop away from the dagger and felt his legs begin to shake. It took all the willpower he had left not to let them buckle out from under him.

Morrigan stepped away from the otter and angrily spat in a rather unladylike fashion. Walking over to the wooden railing that overlooked the deck of her ship, she called out to her Quartermaster. "Mister Smith!"

"Aye, Captain!"

Sig watched as a large, autumn-colored husky marched up the steps of the aftcastle with a smirk on his face. He took note that the man's clothes were splattered with blood; blood that was most obviously not his own. Sig's heart sank even lower.

"Ship status?"

"The ship is secure, ma'am. There are a handful of survivors from the enemy boarding party."

"I see," Morrigan said, her voice trailing off before her attentioned snapped back to the present. "Put the survivors in the brig. Cut us loose and set sail, it's time for us to depart."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Oh! And be sure to send our regards," she said quickly. "I want to put this whole affair behind us."

The husky nodded in understanding. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Mister Smith turned and marched back down the steps, barking out the captain's order as he went. The surviving crew of the Vanquisher immediately jumped into action in response. They slammed their boarding axes down onto the grappling ropes along the gunwale and allowed the two ships to begin drifting apart. Within moments, the ship began to move independently once more as a wind filled her sails and pushed her forward, her bow effortlessly cutting through the waves.

Morrigan turned her attention back to Sig. The broken otter's clothes were soaked in blood along his right side though the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding for the moment. Ignoring his feeble attempts to put on a defiant face, she pointed in the direction of his ship. "You need to learn what happens to a captain who fights without honor, who disregards the safety of their crew and loses sight of the the world around them."

It wasn't long before Sig heard a shallow whump echo from somewhere below deck. The moment his ears picked up the sound, his expression melted from what little defiance remained in his heart to dread. The sound had struck him as eerily familiar and that did not sit well with him. Before he could say anything though, he felt his fur beginning to stand on end.

Green bolts of lightning arced across the deck of the Vanquisher, jumping randomly from spot to spot. The harmless charge spread out over the entire ship and Sig watched as the tendrils climbed the mast and spread out over the sails before dissipating into nothingness. Immediately, he knew what this meant: she had a magus of her own on board. A sudden, brilliant flash of light engulfed the ship and was followed by the ear-splitting thunderclap as the ship instantaneously jumped from one location to another.

He blinked several times. When his vision returned, he could see his ship floating in distance no more than a mile away. He spied dark blobs moving quickly across the ship and leaping overboard. Squinting his eyes, he noticed that they were in fact men - his men. He turned his gaze up to the fox. "What did you do?"

Morrigan remained silent, eyes fixated on the ship in the distance.

Before Sig could press the question upon her again, an explosion rocked his ship and the ensuing fireball engulfed timber, sail, and unfortunate soul alike. He watched in horror as the explosion splintered her in two, the masts buckling and falling. Only a few seconds passed before the gunpowder stores aboard ignited and ripped the rest of her asunder, flinging debris far and wide and sending her quickly to the bottom of the sea. Seeing everything that he was and had ever been slip beneath the waves was too much for him. Unable to keep himself upright any longer, he collapsed to the deck.

"Captain," Mister Smith said with a salute, his presence once more recognized on the aftcastle, "the prisoners are secure."

"Thank you, Mister Smith. Please see to it that the wounded are tended to by the doctor."

"Yes, ma'am," the husky replied. "And what would you like to do with him?"

Morrigan let out a soft sigh and looked down at the defeated otter - the once-captain. "Get him out of my sight. Have the doctor tend to his wounds and then bind him in irons. He can sit with what's left of his crew in the brig."

"Aye, Captain." The Quartermaster strode over to the broken man and after placing a firm hand on Sig's unwounded shoulder, looked him in the eyes. "You aren't going to give me any trouble now, are you?"

Sig didn't respond.

With an approving grunt, the husky pulled the dagger free and hoisted Sig over his shoulder. He was incredibly strong, even by husky standards, but he made lifting the full-grown man look as effortless as lifting a child. He handed the dagger back to his captain without a word and took his leave with their prisoner.

Morrigan held the blade in her paw and watched as the otter's blood splattered onto the deck. She clenched her teeth and pulled a cloth from her belt to wipe the blade clean - she had seen too much blood for one day. Not that she couldn't stomach it, but there had been too much death, too much tragedy on this day. She and her crew had won the battle and saved her ship, but the sight of a broken captain was one that was all too familiar to her. The dagger clean and back in its sheath, she approached the gunwale and planted her paws firmly on the wooden railing. Upon feeling the crisp ocean breeze flow through her hair and the droplets of sea water splash against her muzzle, she let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes. It reminded her of home.