The door to the tavern opens and a huge crowd walks in, their loud hollering preceding them. You look at your waiters and sigh, giving them a gesture to let them know you'll handle it. Pirate crews are not uncommon to come through these parts, as a tavern on the Prospitian port.

"Welcome! What can I get ya?" You ask from behind the counter, with your most customer-service-approved smile. The captain, you presume, cuts through the crowd, and- oh fuck, that's the most wanted pirate of the decade. “I need every room of this filthy shack, landlubber! And if there’s someone snoring in there already, tell ‘em Captain Serket needs it and kick them out!” She cackles, slamming her hook on the counter, scratching your beautiful wood. Oh, hell no. Not your counter.

“Don’t pirates usually sleep on their ship?” You ask, glaring daggers at her. “We’re currently patching it up after going nose to nose with a royal ship and sinking the fuck out of it.” Captain Serket replies, cleaning the dirt under her fingernails in false modesty. “So? Rooms, yes or die.” She adds, looking at you with the one eye that’s not covered with an eye-patch.