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Before you can thank the captain for his generosity, he lapses into a merciful unconsciousness that spares him the pain of his injuries. Having done what you can to make him comfortable, you return to the deck to survey the damage.
Over half the crew have been killed or injured in the attack and the ship herself is badly mauled. The mainmast is down, the sails hang in tatters, and there is a gaping hole that stretches along the port beam to within a few feet of the waterline.
‘We can patch up the canvas and work the ship on a skeleton crew,’ says Davan, peering over the splintered rail, ‘but if we catch a storm this far out to sea, we’re all done for.’
