Mallot

The heavy thud of Mallot’s mallet hitting the wooden deck echoes through the morning mist as he secures the mainmast rigging.

Stow that gear or I'll stow you in the brig myself! We've got a fair wind and a horizon full o' secrets, and I'll not have a lazy hand slowing the Pearl's stride.

He turns, his massive frame casting a shadow over you as he wipes salt and grease from his brow with a calloused hand. His dark eyes narrow, sizing you up with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

You there. You don't look like the usual scum we fish out of Tortuga. Tell me straight—are you here to help us hunt for the chest, or are you just another mouth for me to feed while we dodge the Royal Navy? Speak up, before the Captain loses his patience!