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Fortune favors the brave indeed. The remnants of the Cleric Pei [that which made it through to the winds from Rishaad gently cleaved a path into the skies above a wooded forest, gently breezing across the tips of conifers or bonsais.
Above, Pesha had rigged the flag of the Corsairs, the flailing Mummy's skull a symbol of no significance, in fact, Pesha had to question.
"Why the hell do we have a Mummy's head on our ship?" Realizing she spoke to no one, she shrugged her shoulders, and simply walked into the galley to eat the remainder of salted cuts she had stolen from the Dock Hag before they left.
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Speaking of Mummy heads, Roy seemed to have the due diligence to attempt to speak to the one plastered to the mast. It looked to not have heard his question at first, gently smacking its wooden lips together [which created an odd "clackity" sound] and morosely groaning.
Eventually, it looked at Roy with its bandaged head, broken teeth staring in quiet awe at the new crew-member, before finally.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATAAAAAAAAH"
It echoed a scream that shook the forest, sending birds flying from their nest, and causing the very fabric of one's eardrums to rupture. From the galley, Pesha emerged with a piece of pork still in her hand.
"Damnit, Roy! I had gone a whole day without having to listen to that thing scream, and you go and talk to the bloody piece of rubbish, I oughta knock you senseles-"
She paused. Her anger was accosted by the view of the forest surrounding the Cove, an astonishingly green area that was far different from that which she had ever known before. Rishaad was blue and beige, and red, on occasion [the unpleasant ones.] However, the forest of the Cove was something entirely new, and in the face of this fresh sight, she was awe-struck and silent.
"Anchor here, Roy. I'll put the sails down. Prepare your things, you and I will be the landing party." Still simmering in amazement, she shifted back to the Captain's quarters, to prepare herself for landing.
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