Captain Frankie

Frankie, an awakened dog and captain of the Saltwraith, runs his ship tight as a sail in a high wind. He reads the chop of the sea and stars in the sky with a skill few can match, trusts rope more than rumor, and ensures there is plenty of booty to spread among his crew after a hard day of pillaging and plundering.

The Saltwraith is part of the Pieces of Eight, a pirate armada that comprises nearly seven hundred ships. When the Conclave Arcana offered coin to search out Praetoria's secret, Captain Frankie took the contract and set his crew to it: soundings in black coves, landings on rough shores, surveyors ferried in and out. But he cares less about the secret than he does about the coin, and there's plenty of that to go around.

He pads his holystoned deck, calling the cadence as his crew hauls the braces. When the Saltwraith drops anchor near shore, he holds the beach while maps change hands with the conclave's goons. Would-be heroes who try the Saltwraith's rail go back over the side with a bite that'll leave a nasty scar and a story to tell, if they live to tell it. He tries not to chase gulls when they wheel low over the galley. Tries.

Murray, his first mate, is a narrow-eyed awakened cat with a knife-edged voice and a ledger where most have a heart. He keeps the course true, the stores honest, and the crew closer to sober than they like. He has a talent for appearing at Frankie's side the moment a knot slips or a story grows too long. They argue over charts and shares in the cabin—Murray's tail flicking, Frankie's paw tapping—but on deck they move as one. Frankie calls the pace. Murray makes sure no one falls behind. Between the two of them, the Saltwraith earns her keep. Shores get found, villages get plundered, and it's booty all around.

Salt spray, open ocean, and a ship ready to bite when he barks the command. Captain Frankie knows a freedom most dogs only dream of.

It's a pirate's life for him.