The wind gusted, making the water slightly choppy but otherwise it was a fine day. Ryvara peered off of the bow of the ship. The wind swept her golden locks out of her face. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, and her clothing was feminine, but very maneuverable. Leather breeches fit tightly to her legs and a beautiful light blue shirt was tucked under a functional vest. She glanced back across the deck of the ship, yelling, "Father! You have to see this!"

The captain looked up from his overseeing tasks, and smiled indulgently at his daughter. Ryvara beamed back. "Father. look! Finally, a port. We can get fresh supplies. And that birthday present you promised me a month ago!" Playfully, she punched her father.

Captain Hawks winced, but grinned at her. "You're right. I guess I do owe you that, don't I? Pe'haps you take care of the supplies an' I'll bring ye home a little something, sound good?"

Ryvara smirked. "You just want to get out of dealing with Big Red." She referred to the Port Overseer. She was a rather… exuberant woman.

Her father rubbed his behind. "Last time she slapped me so many times I think she exceeded the number I got as a child for stealing!"

Skillfully, the crew of the Baratilla maneuvered the ship into the harbor. Captain Hawks glanced at his daughter as the ship was being docked. "So. You never said what you wanted for a birthday gift. It should be special. Your twenty-first.”

Ryvara rolled her eyes. "I really don't care, Father, whatever you think I could use. I wouldn't mind some new boots, or clothes. Maybe even a cutlass would be nice. Just go look around, these supplies will take me quite a while."

The ship was secured, and immediately men swarmed to help unload the mounds of cargo. Finally, her father had left in search of her late birthday present. Ryvara leaned against a crate as she watched the goods they had just gotten being moved around the wharf. She glanced around, idle curiosity bringing her to wonder who would be in the harbor town that day. She shrugged, deciding that she'd catch a glimpse when she got the chance. "Take it a little slower, a drink can wait a few more minutes." She hollered to one of the boys. Captain Hawks wandered the shops, waving to familiar faces as he glanced through booths of things being sold for his daughters present. Meanwhile, Ryvara was busy with the unloading.

The inside of the tavern was smoke-filled and dirty, smelling like spilled ale and other things. Greasy-looking drunkards occupied just about every bench and chair space, laughing rowdily while telling lurid jokes and singing bawdy sea chanteys. It was only the middle of the afternoon, but that didn't stop the shored sailors from having a good time. They probably wouldn't even seek their beds this night, just drink themselves into a stupor and pass out in a puddle of beer and mud. Today was a little bit of a break from routine, however. Occasionally, one sailor would nudge his fellow and nod significantly towards the lone quiet table towards the back of the inn. Between songs, they traded whispered rumors about the occupant of that table. "I 'eard et 'ees a mate on th' Shadow Wave..."

One sailor whispered to his drunken partner, gesturing quite a bit with his mug of ale and spilling a lot of the ale on the already drenched table. "The've come ashore fer th' first time in ten years and a ‘alf!" He continued excitedly. "I hear t'look fer new deck hands..." he lowered his voice considerably. "Since t'others was kilt in all the raids." His partner took a long swig, either ignoring his friend or too drunk to care. The one sailor raved on. "Imajin! Th' likes o' us on a' fancy a hull as th' Shadow Wave!"

A younger sailor burst through the tavern doors. "Hey, mates! Look! The Baratilla‘s docked! That means Cap'n Hawks is back!" A section of sailors cheered. "I 'eard he brought his daughter wif 'im." Low whistles came from quite a few sailors sounded at that announcement. Captain Hawks, and of course, his daughter Ryvara happened to be quite popular in the port. Captain Hawks was generous, not to mention his daughter was quite lovely, which was an added bonus to the crew, since she was usually onboard with her father.

The occupant of the shadowed table was just about the only one who didn't join in the cheering, outside of the sailors who had already passed out. Instead he sat calmly, sipping his ale, his figure hidden away from the light and his features indistinguishable from the darkness. He was indeed from that infamous ship, the Shadow Wave, the one ship the authorities would most liked to have gotten their hands on. The ship was responsible for half the pirating robberies this side of the seven seas within the past ten years.

Captain Finnigan Trevellas drunk in the news of the Baratilla's harboring thoughtfully. So, old Hawks has come in, has he? A slight frown crossed his face, and he set his mug of ale down on the table with a sigh. He'd hoped never to have to see that old son of a seadog again. He fingered the pale white scar on his cheek, memories returning to him...

In his mind‘s eye, Finn sees a young boy standing arrogantly tall, facing his Captain. "You won't face me because you're a coward!" he yelled defiantly to the older man's face.

There seemed to be sadness in the man’s eyes as he looked upon young Finn, as well as anger. "Give off, laddie! You're not ready to captain this ship. Go back t'yer work!" he ordered.

The young Finn didn't flinch. "No! I challenge you, Hawks!"

After directing everyone where the things should go, Ryvara started to wander towards the suppliers, where she'd find Big Red and get the necessary items. However, on the way, she stopped, noticing the tavern. Glancing in, she decided to get a few bottles of rum to bring back for her dad. She opened the door, heading inside.

Lost in his thoughts, Finnigan didn't notice Hawks daughter walk in. Instead, he saw the sun flashing on silver steel rapiers as two men- one young and too ambitious for his own good; the other older, and wiser, and yet stubborn as a mule. They clashed perhaps because they were so alike. That day, young Finn received the scar on his cheek, and a lesson he would never forget. He left the ship Baratilla, and formed his own crew for the Shadow Wave. Ten years later, the Shadow Wave was the dastardliest ship on the seas, and Finnigan was undefeated in all his battles.

Several whistles abruptly sounded from the drunks, as Ryvara headed towards the bar. The bartender grinned, hurrying to go get the drinks for the young woman. As she waited, the whistles and stares continued, but she herself ignored them, glancing around the room. All the whistling and dirty catcalls finally caught Finnigan's attention. He looked up, shaking off his reverie. At first he thought she must have been the most beautiful woman alive... but then he noted the color of the eyes, the specific tilt of the chin, and his feelings spiraled down into immediate dislike. Hawks’ daughter.

Ryvara smiled, taking the two bottles of rum and stuffing them in a bag she was carrying. Handing some money over, and nodding politely, she headed for the exit.

The remnants of the old anger surfaced in a moment. All Finnigan could think of was getting even- and lucky for his thirst for revenge, he didn't have enough morals to crush an ant with. He stood up so suddenly he caused his chair to topple over. The silence that followed the crash was quite profound.

Ryvara had been told little about her father's old pirating days. She knew very little, and what she did know, was vague. So when the young woman turned to see what the abrupt silence and toppling of chair was about, she didn't seem at all ready to attack. She studied Finnigan for a moment, and then spoke. "Can I help you?"

The Shadow Wave's captain was somewhat of an imposing figure. Ten years of marauding the high seas had left him with a ruthless look in his gem-green eyes. The scar on his cheek added to the overall effect on intimidation. The Captain was young, only twenty-seven years old, but at times his age could seem infinite. As could his anger. He glared at the girl. "Be ye Hawks' daughter?" he asked gruffly.

Ryvara knew not to trust someone who asked about her father. She set the bag down, her hand moving to the hilt of her dagger. "What's it to you?"

He eyed the young woman, unaware that the entire tavern was now listening to their conversation. "I used to know your father..." Finn said vaguely, walking towards her from across the room.

She didn't move her eyes from the figure, her weapon ready to be drawn at any minute. "Many people used to know my father… why should I care who you are?"

Finn wasn't used to people surprising him. He blinked for a moment, paused in his tracks. He was lean, not overly muscled, with raven black hair tied out of his face in a tight ponytail. From his sash hung a gleaming rapier, nicks giving implict evidence of many battles. "'Ere now, have I given y'any cause to be 'arsh with me, lass?" he said neutrally.

She didn't trust the fellow, but she doubted she'd be able to defeat him in battle if she had to. "What do you want with me? I have things I be needin' to do, you know."

He thought quickly. "Oh aye, and did not let me keep ye from them. I'll go wit' ye."

Ryvara reluctantly agreed, frowning. "All right." She carefully picked up her bag, heading for the exit. Somehow, she managed never to turn her back to him.

Finnigan followed, his walk involving some rolling of the hips- something like the one of a body just in from ten years at sea, more accustomed to bucking waves than solid land. He paused at the tavern entrance, glaring fiercely at the gossip-mongering sailors. "And you lot mind yer tongues!" he barked.

She chuckled quietly, carefully moving towards the suppliers. "So, why are you following me?"

Finn glanced sidelong at her. "Like I said. I knew yer father, lass." He didn't offer any more. He wasn't a man big on words.

Ryvara shrugged, turning her back to him in annoyance. She didn't realize her bad move at first as she continued walking. Finn didn't hesitate to use her mistake to his advantage. Drawing a dagger from his wrist sheaths with a quick movement, he put the point of the dagger at her back. "Don't move or scream, lass,” he hissed into her ear. She swore silently under her breath. "I knew you weren't to be trusted. Who are you, anyway?"

A soft smile curved the Captain’s lips, though Ryvara couldn't see. "I am no one to be trifled with... But if you must, call me Finn."

Ryvara scowled. "And what do you want with me, hmm?”

The man made tsking noise. "All in good time, lass. But first, back t' my ship. The crew should 'ave finished recruiting and loading th' supplies by now. Back to our home on the high sea."

"You won't get me very far. My father will get ahold of you."

Finn grabbed her arm, still holding the dagger to the small of her back with his other hand. He walked briskly to the docks. "Oh, I doubt it, lass. There's nary another ship as fast as th' ShadowWave."

Ryvara snarled. "Why don't you just leave me be? You have no use for me. Wenches are easy enough to come by, I'm nothing special."

Finnigan laughed softly, dragging her along with him. "Oy, ye need'nt be so 'umble. I actually do know yer father, girl."

Ryvara frowned as the ship was in sight. "So, this is a personal problem. Why don't you just find him yourself instead of picking on me?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "But lass, this is picking on your father..." He walked faster, as the docks were in sight.

Ryvara growled. "Be careful, my father could be anywhere along here… you don't want him mad. So what are you going to do- kill me and send me to him in a million pieces, or simply feed me to the sharks?"

"Perhaps I'll give you to my crew and let 'em 'ave their way wit' ye." To someone who didn't know the Captain very well, he seemed perfectly serious, except for the grin on his face.

She smiled prettily. "If they're as stupid as you, I'll be having my way with them."

"Yer awfully quick-tongued for a lass wit' a dagger in 'er back." He rumbled dangerously.

"Thanks, you're wonderful yourself." Ryvara quipped sarcastically. "So what are you going to do to me?"

Finnigan shrugged one shoulder. The truth was, he wasn’t really sure. This was sort of a spur-of-the-moment kidnapping. They stopped at the edge of the dock. Finnigan gazed proudly out upon his ship, the ShadowWave. Scorch marks from cannons scarred the sides, and the entire ship gave an overall impression of toughness. He considered, thinking aloud, "Well, I've no need fer money… so I suppose ransoming is out.” Ryvara just crossed her arms. Shrugging, she headed towards the ship without his prompting.