Philip Graves stood on the deck of his new ship, shielding the still sensitive burned side of his face from the sun. He watches the men as they scramble to move the necessary cargo. It had been a long few months, after surviving his flagship destruction it had been a matter of not only healing but salvaging his reputation, getting a new ship, new suppliers, new allies, new recruits.... now finally they just might be able to get back into business.

Graves is pulled from his thoughts when he hears the men make a commotion, the ship dipping briefly as there's something pulling itself up from the side of the deck, his new second in commands' scales shimmered in the bright sun. He gives the startled men an unimpressed look.

"Well what are ya'll waiting for? Help your superior onto deck, we don't have all day."