A Sloop Tries to Bash a Schooner, Which Mast Wins?

The ship had asked for seasoned and novice sailors to sail around from Antiva, through the Riallo Bay, along the shore line of the Amaranthine Ocean, down into the Waking Sea, into Val Royeaux. It was a familiar path, Celine knew, used to doing her smuggling runs between Bastion and Wycome, sometimes down as far as Denerim. Never the Northern Passage for her though. That was too much to take on at her age. Leave Venefication Sea and the Passage to younger blood, blood that didn't mind possibly being spilled by pirates, intent on taking cargo. Pirates, much like the ones that were running up on them quickly as they had made their way through the straight between Ferelden and the Free Marches. Pirates, that thought they had important cargo to be sailing, since they were flying Orlais colors. Pirates, that would probably decide that none of them could live.

It was days like this that she wished, dearly wished, she had spent the day at home there in Bastion, in her cottage, up on the cliffs, so close to Free March territory that she never claimed Bastion as her home, no, even though her cottage sat firmly in Antivan territory. No, there where the sea bit into the main land, she was able to ferry things across to the middle, to her partner in crime, Nolan, when she could. The rigger had caught up to them by the time she had shook the memory of Nolan from her mind. Another time, she needed to focus up if she was going to survive the initial onslaught.

Pulling her blades, she backed up into someone, knowing who that someone was, by smell alone, before she could see. Horus, you have my back in this, yeah? Ain't nothing on board worth dying for, you and I both know it, but these people can't fight like we can. Most of them were young men, their first time on a boat, that's how much of an easy run this should have been.

@Horus