Bigger boat

The Dockmaster was a sun-kissed, grizzled man dressed in an unbuttoned shirt that spilled out into a rotund belly. Smelling of snuff, he refrained from a proper greeting as the Captain hailed him down the dock, instead, simply asking: “What’s yer business?”

By contrast, the Captain wore a sharp fit. A closely-shaven beard accentuated his cheekbones and his eyes sparkled green with golden flakes. Were it not for the salt in his hair, no one could have confidently said he’d just spent near twenty days on the water.

“Friend, that is hardly a welcome.”

“Aye,” replied the Dockmaster. “That be ‘cause yer hardly a friend.”

“True enough.” The Captain politely tipped his head and pat at his coin purse. “But I’d wager my silver is equal to that of your finest companion. Now as for our business, we’re after provisions: Timber and cloth to see us on our way.”

The promise of coin did not seem to interest the older, rougher man in the slightest however. With a
pronounced cough, he pinched some snuff, spat into his handkerchief, and started to chew the new sample while examining the Captain’s vessel. It was the largest ship at the port that day, though that said more about the middling port than the ship itself. The Maiden’s Kiss, as the fresh paint so named it, was a four-manned sloop of superb craftsmanship. Even worn from its journey, with torn sail and splintered hull, it carved a grand place among the dinghies and fish trawlers much like its Captain did the dock-goers.

“Two silver to moor yer fancy boat,” wheezed the Dockmaster. He went on to explain, in cruder terms, his need to inspect the cargo and the crew, claiming the port had been scrutinised recently for abetting smugglers.

“Yer the first to dock since thar storm came through,” he continued. “And yer ship’s named for the Maiden. Bad omens. Plenty bad omens.”

“What do you mean?” the Captain asked.

“Yer daft, boy. First ship to dock after a storm carries storm spirits and nymphs. Always.” He turned a suspicious eye up and down the Captain, bobbing like a parrot taking a drink.

“Are those the tales in these waters?” The Captain smiled. “Naught but superstitious drivel. Every port has their own. Do you need to check my hull for a sea hag too? What about inspecting the aboleth I’ve got bound up in my quarters?

The Dockmaster spat his disgust at the Captain’s feet. “Drivel?”

“Aye. Come now, man. We’re not some kind of harbinger of bad fortune. Some supplies and we’ll be out of your hair and on our way very, very-“

Their conversation came to a grinding halt however, when one of the men busying themselves aboard the Maiden’s Kiss suddenly cried out: “CAPTAIN!”

It was first-mate Pringle, a lanky lad perched atop the mast. “Starboard side! There’s something big in the water!” And indeed, the calm seas within the port started to sway. Where there had been tropical fish swimming about near the docks moments ago, they had hurriedly darted away into the depths. Then there were strangers’ shouts rising from the lighthouse hill, softened by distance but of frantic temper.

Flabbergasted, both Dockmaster and Captain watched as the surface of the water broke a few hundred metres beyond the Maiden’s Kiss. The beast’s horns pierced first followed by her soaked hair and muzzle. The rest of her immense stature came next as she lumbered up, an entire seas’ worth of water rolling off her bipedal form and tremendous tail.

“What in seven hells is that!” asked the Captain, watching helplessly as the beast’s booming strides tossed a dinghy and its lone occupant into the tumultuous swirl of her wake. When she’d realised what she’d done, she apologetically turned about and scooped him up into her hand, sieving the water with her fingers.

She did not have the appearance of a sea creature. Now standing upright in the water, she looked the part of a colossal dragonborn adventurer or perhaps a mercenary. She wore sparing leathers and there were bottles and knick-knacks clanging from chainsall over her. There were satchels bound to her hips that could fit an entire caravan inside and straps bound all around her. A sword rested at her back that was wider than the height of two men standing head-to-toe and her thighs filled the seas.

"Sorry about your boat," she said, dropping the soaked fisherman into her top. “Sit tight for a second.” The resulting surge of sea water as she continued wading forwards sent the Maiden's Kiss smacking against the dock. Splintered wood launched into the air as a nearby plank shattered from the impact.
First-mate Pringle cursed. The Captain saw him panicking to descend the mastonly to get caught partway down. He and the Dockmaster watched in awe as the beast seized the bow of the Maiden’s Kiss before lifting the entire ship from the water as easily as they might lift a coil of rope.

"See, boy! Yer scoffed at superstition and summoned the sea's wrath!" the Dockmaster wheezed. "Yer a fool!"

Though the Captain felt the blackened spittle he'd come to associate with the Dockmaster peppering against his cheek like sea-spray, he did not turn his eyes from the beast. Only from his peripheral vision did he catch the rougher man ducking behind a nearby crate. Was it too late for him too to run?Perhaps he should have fled already? No,but that was his vessel, damn it. His pride,his joy and his new identity. He grit his teeth and steadied himself as this enormous beast’s shadow bore down on the entire dock.

“Way too small,” she said with a sigh,kneeling in the water and resting against the island’s hillside. She let the ship dangle in her grasp with wanton disregard, forcing Pringle to latch onto the mast for fear of plummeting into the ocean. Her eyes turned to the Captain and the poorly-hidden Dockmaster. “I’m in need of a ship,” she continued. “Any chance you guys got one in my size?”

And at that moment, Pringle’s strength gave out and he tumbled down, bouncing off the beast’s tremendous thigh and splashing into the water.

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commissioner wrote a small story for this one so i'm adding it! thanks HeckinEatcha! you can find them under this username on fa