The Irish Sea was in a contemplative mood; it was neither angry, throwing large hull-shattering waves around in all directions, nor was it village pond calm. Occasionally, a rogue wave would defy nature and raise its white head high and take a look around. Finding nothing worth breaking against, it would slide back down into a deep grey trough and dream of warmer waters and energetic currents that drag and propel. If it had taken another look before giving up it would have seen a strange vessel hove into view.
The small ship had a bright green sail flying from the mainmast, and when it caught the sunlight, it brightened and turned a vivid emerald. It was an old design, roughly 40 feet in length, with a beaky, angled bow, and a rather stubby stern, making it very solid in the water and als
