[A/N: Hello dear readers! However many of you there are. I apologise most profusely for the slow updates, but I have been suffering from the dreaded curse known as writer's block. Chapters should come a little quicker now I've got over it =)

Additionally, thank you very much to Sunny for their wonderful and inspiring email. =) ]

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Reaver couldn’t sleep. Whether it was the rhythmic creaking of an unfamiliar ship or the faint scratching of a quill on parchment from the next room, he couldn’t be sure. The Thief had a good mind to tell the man to stop his infernal scribbling, but for the moment his pride simply couldn’t take any more battering. Garth seemed to know just where to poke to injure him the most and he was sure that the Mage was teaching Hammer some tricks. That woman wasn’t capable of being witty on her own.

He sighed, lying on his back and making a vain attempt at resting, if not sleep. It was not long before he gave up, and with a frustrated sound swung his legs from the bunk. Pulling on a shirt he buttoned it as he headed for the door, walking easily on the gently swaying floor. There was a cool, brisk breeze on the night air as Reaver stepped out on deck, the wind lifting his hair and touching his skin through his thin cotton shirt. A glance upwards told of clear skies and good weather all the way to Westcliff, where a smaller boat would be needed to sail up the river to Bowerstone. The Pirate King never really took the time to simply take in the view while he was searching for ships to capture, but now there was plenty of time and he moved to the bow, leaning on the wooden rail, tasting the faint tang of spray on his lips as the ship drove through each shallow wave. The horizon blurred where the sky met the ocean, and it was easy to see the reasoning behind the old belief that the world was flat.

With a frown he shook himself from those fanciful thoughts, looking down at the black water below. A strange, unnatural kind of fog was curling in pale tendrils over the dark waves, leading back to a fog bank that spread over the land. Reaver’s keen eyes could make out the shore even from this distance, and he was so focused upon it that he didn’t hear Hammer step up beside him.

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