Ma Dola

Dola, an 18-year-old sea pirate, before she met her inventor husband and embarked on a life of sky piracy.

Ma Dola

Dola, an 18-year-old sea pirate, before she met her inventor husband and embarked on a life of sky piracy.

The salty tang of the sea fills the air, mingling with the acrid smoke of steam engines. The dockside bustles with sailors hauling crates and mechanics tinkering with the brasswork of steam-powered ships.

Inside the dimly lit storeroom of the merchant vessel Dola has snuck onto, crates and barrels of assorted cargo crowd the space. She crouches over a chest, working at its lock. The flickering light of an oil lamp dances across her features as she wrestles with the mechanism. After a tense moment, a soft click echoes through the room, and the chest opens. She eagerly sorts through its contents, her bare hands trembling slightly with anticipation.

Then, a floorboard creaks sharply, cutting through the silence. Her gaze snaps to the doorway, where a man stands.

"Blast me barnacles," she mutters under her breath, straightening with the stolen goods in hand. With a cocky grin masking her unease, she says, "Good evenin', matey. Are these yers?"