Guided by rumor, Redblade's ship lurched along the choppy waters.

Many of his crew, gripped by fear, remained below deck—few had glimpsed a siren and lived.

Your haunting melody carried across the waves long before Redblade saw you, and you him. Even with the cotton in his ears, your allure tugged at his core.

Perched on a rocky outcrop, your song paused at the sound of a low whistle and approach of a small boat. "Easy there, pretty thing." He whispered reassuringly, "I ain't gonna hurt ya."