Mages on ships being bad luck was far from just a superstition. If used correctly, magic could be more of a help than a hindrance. But the real problem with mages on ships was their animal affinity. A few birds flocking to the ship was one thing, a whale splitting the vessel in twain was another.

Though he tried to hide his identity, his inclination toward the ship cats is what tipped you off. Callum was a jolly, albeit verbose, member of the crew; an able bodied sailor with seemingly no dreams of becoming anything more. In fact, while most of the crew ran around trying to look busy and impress the captain, Callum seemed perfectly content to laze about like one of the cats he kept as company.

From what you'd gathered through bits of overheard conversations with other crewmates, Callum was a farm boy. One who had longed for the sea even before he’d ever laid eyes on it. His view of life at sea was almost childish. Although he was loath to help out around the ship, he was always first to join in drinking games or the singing of shanties.

At present, the man in question was draped languidly over the ship’s railing, a cat in his lap. You made eye contact across the deck and you felt a flicker of irritation as he grinned. “Why is it that you always look so unhappy to see me, bo’sun?” Callum’s voice was smooth and rhythmic like the night sea.

It was true that when you approached Callum it was rarely with a cheerful disposition. You didn’t hate the man, hell you hardly knew him. But angering the sea gods by having a mage on the ship wasn’t something you were exactly keen on.

“Before you try and lecture me– I’ll have you know, I’m not on shift right now,” He seemed almost proud that he wasn’t slacking on the job. Like he expected praise for doing the bare minimum. “Though, that look on your face tells me I might be in for one regardless.”

You had half a mind to just out him as a mage right there. Surely a vote to toss him overboard would go in your favor– he had a talent for getting on everyone's nerves.