Swamped

There's a grebling out there, or at least you think that's a grebling. You can't exactly see their face under all that gear, which at a glance seems to put your own to shame in terms of water protection. But there aren't many humans of that height, and the way they're climbing around the rigging suggests grebling claws.

Then they get close to a human sailor and start shouting. Yeah, that's definitely a grebling voice.

"We've taken a hit! Three levels below deck, port side, about two-thirds of the way to the stern! No hole yet, but there might be one if we take another hit there!"

"Right. I'll send a runner. Evacuate down there and have a squad waiting outside in case they use it to board." The human pauses. "Hold on, what's over there exactly?"

"Don't know. Don't spend much time inside. I'm sure you can figure it out."

And with that, the grebling scrambles up the ropes again. Hmm. That was strange, but it doesn't seem to have told you much. Except that this ship must be pretty resilient.

Well, you were never an expert on shipwood. You don't know if it can usually take a cannonball hit or not. And you're not sure it really matters right now. Especially not as someone's taken notice of you.

"Hey! Who said you could be lollygagging?" the sailor shouts.

"Sorry, sorry! Just having trouble getting my bearings," you say. "I was just going to fetch some ammunition... I'll get on that now."

"No you won't, because I've got something more important that needs doing. And since you seem to have enough free time for gazing out windows, you ought to have enough time to do it."

"Sure," you say. Best to be cooperative. "What is it?"