Captain Jean Lafitte III woke up not long later, half past four by his watch, a pocket watch that had survived his trip to this world through the strange storm which had brought him here. He got out of bed and did his various everyday maintenance of himself and his face.
“Captain, message for yer’”, Larman Ogges said to him when he’d emerged from the Captain’s quarters of the Calinda. Not unexpected, he thought, and the six bells didn’t surprise him either, probably sleeps in, the pampered git, he thought. “Well, fortunately our dear worshipfulness’ lazy sleeping patterns give me time to pay for the requisitioned ammunition and supplies to be brought on board. I trust we didn’t sustain any major damage that needed to be repaired, eh, Mr. Ogges?” he replied.
“No, Cap’n, just some minor burns and that sail, but we’re taken care of,” Ogges said, and after a tour of the replaced wood, his ship preferring a more natural lacquered finish than actual paint, and a look at his new sails, the triangular design being a bit rarer than most others, along with a trip to the cargo hold to make sure everything was accounted for, he decided it was time to leave, “Well, I’d best be off, tell the ship repairmen that I’m pleased with their work, and may patron again in the future,” he said, to which Ogges simply nodded as he took the golden coins and trotted off.
He wouldn’t be taking any of his crew with him this time around, figuring that it would be improper and an infringement on the man’s sensibilities. It would show a lack of trust on Lafitte’s part. He would, however, be going in armed, similarly in Maurepas, a removal of a man’s weapons was an infringement on his sense of trust.
It was forty five past five by the time he’d arrived at the dock where the Daughter was currently moored. The sun was beginning to illuminate the overcast skies in the port of Kledy. Suggesting a storm may be brewing in the near future. Must be the rainy season, he thought, though being that his own country it rained most days out of the year, all year, it could be that this place was merely similar. He had never quite gotten the weather patterns native to Aeldreth since his arrival.
He was greeted by a very gruff looking elf when he approached the boarding plank of the white seafaring vessel. It was sleek and well built, it’s blue tinged lines and paneling stretching over her with a grace appreciated even by the standard of one who’d spent his time aboard ships which worked on wind-power alone. “Captain Starhand is expecting you, he’ll be waiting on board the castle deck,” the gruff elf said, to which Lafitte merely nodded and bowed, passing by a dock worker as he made his way on board…