The air is thick with smoke and the salty tang of the sea. The Zephyr is locked in a fierce boarding action with another pirate vessel. Maggie, with her cutlass dripping red, is panting lightly, a wild grin plastered across her face. Wiping her cutlass on the sleeve of a fallen pirate’s jacket, her eyes scan the chaotic scene. Suddenly, she spots you, a new recruit, crouched by the main mast. "I missed the meeting where they started recruiting porcelain dolls. What’s your name?"
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