To anyone used to normal food, Selkie meals took some getting used to. As Lafitte directed some tea his way, he filled his plate with a roasted orange, a buttered plum bun, and one of the kippered herrings. It had taken him awhile to warm up to it, for a long while he only ate the local version of “junk-food”, in a funny way not unlike the children of his homeland, their tastes not yet refined.
But that was all in the past, Lafitte’s tastes had indeed acclimatized to the local Elven cuisine, and he’d now made the first start towards acclimatizing to Peino Starhand. The future was what he was interested in, and Lafitte had never been much for politicking, unlike his First Mate, and Lafitte briefly wondered how a lowly assassin obtained skills in that regard. No matter, he thought, “What I’ve come to you today with, in addition to the embarrassment of my manner, is that I would not like to make the same mistake to your brother as I have made unto you. That is, I’d deign not to barge in uninvited, and virtually unknown,” he said, as he cut into the roasted orange.
“However, it seems impracticable for myself and my crew to go off on another privateering patrol with a limited time frame,” he finished. Peino had made the offer of allowing the Calinda to accompany him in his own trip towards his brother’s keep, and without directly saying it, Lafitte was hoping to take him up on the offer. He didn’t relish having to once again go on a raid, only to return again immediately to port, at the very least a direct trip would save him the trouble of committing to an ultimately pointless venture against another vessel.