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A tall blonde woman comes running up the stairs to the kitchen, her right hand wielding a short, thin sword and her left one engulfed in flames. Without pausing, she runs to the rail farthest from you and blasts of fire shoot out of her palm.

She screams and her fingers stop producing flames. Instead, her hands began to move around her body in cyclical motions, guiding the flames she conjured to begin spiraling around the ship's hull. Ungodly screams of pain and rage fill the air, the reek of burning fish.

But it's not enough to kill all the sirens. Those closest to you finally make it onto the ship, their strong legs propelling them towards you.

Huh. You would have thought they would have tails instead of legs, their mind provides them useful before being forced to fight for your life.