The Typhon charted its course through the ocean, sleek and confident as a killer whale. On deck, the pirates of the night watch performed their duties with time-honored precision. Belowdecks, their crewmates variously rested, ate, relaxed, and prepared for the business of the next day. The Typhon was a well-oiled machine, from the crow's nest to the galley, from the lowliest of pirate apprentices to the captain and his deputy.In one of the smaller but nevertheless grand staterooms two levels below the main deck, four people sat around a circular table. The table was covered with a red silk cloth, from which arose a structure resembling the four walls of a fortress. Each wall was composed of small tiles, half wood, half bone, stacked tightly together. But evidently this miniature fortress was not impenetrable. The walls had been ravaged. Some of the tiles had made their way onto racks placed in front of each wall while other tiles lay bone side up on the table revealing an array of intricate colored symbols."Well," said Trofie Wrathe, a golden finger tapping the wooden rack in front of her.
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