Captain Jean Lafitte III had no recourse but to follow along with Ruili, crossbow raised as the Selkie ran towards the fight ahead. However, when he arrived the battle was over. Both duelists laid dead or dying.
Before him his First Mate was pulling a dagger from the larger man writhing upon the ground, seemingly in shock. “Nice shot, d’ami,” Lafitte said simply as Beau was cleaning his weapon on his shirt.
“Eh, it’s a living,” Beau replied with a slight chuckle, but Lafitte wasn’t sure he got the joke.
Rolling a cigarette during a slight lull in the ever-pouring rain of the Storm of Manawydden, the Captain made his way nearer to the conversing Selkies. “My apologies, I seemed to have missed the action,” Lafitte said, taking a puff, but his opening words fell on deaf ears as Peino was already speaking.
“Prisoners?” one of them said. Lafitte was momentarily confused as to which due to their similarities. “Hmmm. I hadn’t thought of that.”
Lafitte took a drag and looked back at his beloved Calinda. His crew was going back and forth readying for another voyage. The weapons of the battle were being put away or secured under the direction of Larman Ogges, always ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
Lafitte gathered a smirk upon his face. “Well, I’ve got an idea, Mon Frères.”
Lafitte looked upon the bandits standing nearby. Without Lafitte’s trained eye, they didn’t know that his airship was being readied to leave and no longer had crossbows pointed in their direction. A trick he’d used to his advantage more than once. As such, they had long since lowered their weapons for fear of further attack, not to mention the fact of being surrounded by an army of the nefarious Brownies his people had encountered earlier.
“I propose a simple ultimatum, join my crew for a date of no less than ten years, or death,” Lafitte said, taking another drag. “My crew is more than able to whip ’em into shape, and we could always use a few more hands.”