Kiela waited with the rest of the boarding party at the top of the stone pillar. She knew the drill: the explosions would be the signal. Valthor and his companions would board the ship from below, using whatever holes the mines had made, and work to disable the forward cannons. She was part of the group that would be dropping onto the deck, and trying to do the same from above.
She was ready for this. The shivering in her body was just anticipation, definitely not fear. No, she was going to go down there and do her best to keep the damned elves away from her lover. The captain wanted this galleon, and she could see why: it was huge, well-armed, and would be a boon for the admiral as well as a great loss for the Seravandrian command.
She checked her cutlass, but it was still sheathed at her waist, right where she'd left it. The same for her daggers. Her bow was slung across her back, ready to use, and her armor was still in place. She resisted the urge to adjust it. She was ready, damn it. The galleon was coming closer...
That's a cursed lot of ship, she thought, and then the explosions began.
She moved before she could think about it.
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