La Danse Calinda flew through the air among the clouds of Manawydden’s cursed storm.
Captain Jean Lafitte III was at her helm. He’d had enough of everything at this point, and the Brownies’ defiant worthlessness was the final straw. Lafitte needed to be in his element, the rain drenching his clothes and the wind whipping his hair.
The water, the air, it didn’t matter, as long as it was wet. He decided with few words, spared only for orders, that they would simply bring the ship down and see what this encampment was and what they could gather.
The smoke gathered around them and thickened the air as the ship reached encircling and soon landing distance. “Hold her at this altitude!” he called out, and the order was repeated along the lines and eventually to those working the heater. The ship would be kept close, but just out of range of any projectile weaponry the inhabitants might have.
Grapples were lowered down into the trees and the basket prepared. Lafitte would descend alone.
“You sure about this d’ami?” Beau asked, “There’s alota them bandits down in those trees, and I know it was my idea, but we don’t know that ain’t them.” Beau raised an eyebrow.
“We go in with an armed contingent, Beau, and they’re gonna know we’re enemies. You just do what I said and we’ll be fine,” Lafitte replied. His plan was simple. He himself would be lowered in the basket to attempt a rendezvous with the encampment, armed only with his machete.
Ionas was instructed to be in the crow’s nest, along with their wayward guests, the Brownies. His job would be, of course, to keep a lookout and, if there was trouble, to signal Beau and his crossbowmen to line up shots and take down any immediate threats to Lafitte’s life.
In his mind he pictured it smoothly, but he hoped it wouldn’t get to that point. And as the rain whipped through the thick cloud of smoke around him and the thunder sounded and lightning struck, he found himself steeling for it anyway. A premonition which would be proved quite correct.
Landing near a set of tents and a campfire he first noticed the growing pile of…octopi? He was confused as he hopped out of the basket, his long jacket billowing back and forth around him as he bowed to the nearest of the members of the encampment.
“Parlay?” he called out as clearly as he could. The cephalapods were falling around him as he straightened up and realized a fight was ensuing around him. Before he’d even had time to raise an eyebrow, he was shocked to see the Prince of the Grand Navigators leading a charge of Brownies into the encampment.
Raising his hand to signal Beau and his men to fire ,he drew his machete and ran towards the Selkie.
Forgetting any niceties or manners, Lafitte shouted out into the smokey storm, “Starhand! What the fuck is going on here!?”