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Karbin grumbles something in his native tongue and Alysa can guess by the tone that it isn't pleasant. She has a rogue's ear for languages, after all, and there were a number of them that labored on the docks of Damora, even if they prefer to avoid the water much in the way the small folk dislike flying.

On the hand, Baxter's tanned cheek darken deeply and the pointed tips of his ears curl downward slightly when she whispers into them. He turns to watch her leave with Krystyna.

'It was nice to make your acquaintance,' Wylie Thamnos says politely while Bowen Fletcher gives Alysa a kind of vague salute and Tillerman Lee nods.

'I see you've met Baxter,' Krystyna giggles as she leads Alysa out through a side entrance on the other side of the bar. Here, in the looming shadow of the listing ship, there is a strong, foul odor and Alysa can see the long trench, half filled with seawater from the high tide, that is used as a kind of public chamberpot by the patrons of the tavern. Even now, one of them stands there, giving the women a friendly wave with the hand not being used to aim his personal hosepipe.

'He's fairly young but very eager to learn and he looks to have a touch of the fair folk in him.'

Only once they manage to make their way completely around the stern of the vessel, where the waves now lap at the sand and Alysa can smell the briny air does the wretched reek of the open sewer dissipate.

'Don't mind him, though. He's young and he hits on every woman he comes across. Even tried it on an Oathkeeper once and got his ear cuffed for his troubles.'

Here, along the beach, there are numerous shacks and shanties that appear to be constructed out of materials recovered from the shoreline. Further up the bluff, there is a long low stone wall that marks where the sea might rise during a storm or a rogue wave. However, at the moment, the waters seem content to fill the harbor and only come to the edge of the thresholds of the huts.

In this squalor are a number of lurking shadowy figures, most of whom just watch as Krystyna and Alysa pass. Strangely, Krystyna begins to whistle softly and, from the pack on her back, she removes a small brass harp, the strings of which she begins to strum lightly. Somehow, this tune soothes Alysa while, at the same time, appears to dissuade any of the beachcombers to bother them.

Alysa can only laugh as Krystyna tells her of Baxter and the Oathkeeper. She's known a few in her time and she can imagine that if her words alone turned him crimson, a good smack would have turned him almost purple. "I'll keep that in mind Krystyna, although I must admit that would have been quite a sight to see".

She walks with her through the sand, listening to the strange music she makes with the little harp. Perhaps her gifts extend further than she has so far shown, but she is a sweet girl from what Alysa knows and quite interesting in her own way.

The smell of the sea air surrounds her and despite her qualms about water, it smells like home to her. It's been a long time since she was near the sea like this and it's difficult for her to keep the memories of her past from surfacing. But she does, for she has more important things to think about right now than what cannot be changed. She has a whole future spreading out ahead of her and tonight seems to merely be the beginning.

Also numerous upon the sandy shoreline are watchfires. Ganelon does have a lighthouse closer to the main harbor, a great tower topped with an glass enclosure where massive mirrors reflect the light of a raging flame or possibly a mystically conjured radiance far out to sea to guide ships who might be traveling by night. However, the watchfires also serve to indicate where the shore lies and warns vessels away from any reefs or sandbars that might be nearby.

In addition to this purpose, the fires can serve a practical one such as that to which many are tasked at cooking various meals. To one of these does Krystyna walk, an entire side of beef slowly turning on a massive spit. Alysa can catch sight of her rescuer sitting on the opposite side, the broad shouldered spiky haired yet older and wiser looking man that she has heard called the Captain. With him is Madame Archelle and Magda as well as a severe and stern looking man whose age appears to lie somewhere between that of Captain Robur's and Alysa's own. He, like the Captain, is dressed in a heavy leather overcoat under which he wears his vest, shirt and trousers as well as multiple belts around his waist or across his chest for carrying his personal arsenal. Neither he nor the Captain make any secret of the fact that they are armed.

All four of them are seated on stones arranged near the fire to allow for convenience as the stout Athan turns the spit. He smiles curtly at Alysa and nods as Krystyna sits down next to the Captain. He smiles and kisses Krystyna on the forehead before his eyes find Alysa and he waves her over to join them.

She gives Athan a nod as she makes her way over to the fire at the Captain's invitation. She can't help but smile at the small moment of affection between the two for she feels that Krystyna of all of them, deserves to be happy.

She finds an unoccupied stone and settles in on it, her eyes scanning the gathered group quickly, though unlike the last she's not looking for ways to disarm them. After all the Captain surely has no reason to wish her harmed while she harbors the information he needs. Though if that were his motive at all she assumes he would have left her to die at Redclyffe.

'Good evening, Captain Brawne" she says, as her eyes flick in his direction, "it seems we find ourselves in more pleasant company this time than we had earlier. But I presume my presence here has less to do with my charming demeanor and more to do with something you might need or want".

Robur Brawne puffs on his pipe and nods at Alysa.

'A merry evening to you as well, Miss Alysa,' he says in his deep, lyrical voice. 'We were just talking about you. It's good to see you looking well and I do apologize for the incident with young Chase. He's not one of my people or I'd have him punished for acting so rashly. I encourage daring but I don't condone foolishness but the boy is too young to know the difference as yet.'

Madame Archelle smiles pleasantly and nods at Alysa, though they had only parted ways less than an hour before, but Magda ignores her, staring almost unblinkingly at the roasting meat. However, it is not a gaze of hunger but rather scrutiny.

'Don't let it burn,' Magda whispers to herself over and over.

Gesturing to the stern faced man with the wide mouth set in a firm line and the narrowed eyes that never appear as though they open wider, Captain Robur says, 'Alysa Damora, allow me to introduce Titus Martinet.'

For whatever reason, Alysa shall feel a sudden, strong surge of dislike for this Martinet fellow. There's just something about him that bothers her but nothing she can rationalize. Perhaps it is because he doesn't smile or maybe the way he gazes at her coldly, hatefully.

'Don't worry,' Captain Robur comments. 'Everybody feels that way the first time they meet him.' However did he know what Alysa had been thinking?

Nodding, Martinet manages a slight smile. 'Damned faerie magic. Never steal from the fae, Miss Damora. They've ways of making you pay for it for the rest of your life.' He shrugs in a most disagreeable way.

Alysa laughs and nods her head, "so I have heard, but I can assume you're the type to have to learn the hard way about things. Something we seem to have in common Mr Martinet". Her enchanting smile turns on the man, despite her initial dislike, easily explained away as a fae curse. " As for your little friend Chase, Captain, there was no real harm done and he's only a child, he'll soon learn that distinction for himself, though I must admit for someone so small he can hold his own in a fight".

The blonde shifts slightly as she looks around the group once again. She's not sure of the motives at play here, but her instincts are calm, unlike the terror and apprehension she experienced the moment she stepped into Redclyffe. Though the rogue in her wants to keep moving, to make herself a harder target should things take a turn she manages to reason it into submission and settle in by the fire.

"I'd heard you kept interesting company, but no one mentioned someone crazy or stupid, no offense meant of course, enough to steal from the fair folk, it seems the longer I spend here the more interesting you become Captain".

'Interesting company?' Captain Robur asks with a roguish grin, his eyes twinkling. He glances at Madame Archelle, who still has her crisp smile, and Magda, who turns her attention away from the cooking meat to nod at the Captain. Krystyna giggles softly and clutches at Robur's arm.

'You could call them that, I suppose. Honestly, we're just a mad lot who fell in together because nobody else would tolerate us. My family lived near Abbey Park when I was a child so it might have been fate that led me back there so many years later, which is where I found these fine ladies.'

He clasps his hand on Krystyna's shoulder. 'Many fine adventures we have shared and more to follow to be certain. If nothing else, it gives us more about which to sing!'

Alysa can feel the heat of the raging blaze behind her and the long shadows she casts upon the others.

'So, Miss Alysa,' Captain Robur asks as he taps out the still burning embers from his pipe onto the sand. 'What may I do for you?'

Alysa nods as the man speaks, watching him carefully. She may not be a lawgiver, able to discern lies in their own ways, but they taught her enough about discerning motives through a man's body language, and it is this skill she calls to bear at the moment. Though she cannot discern anything sinister about him.

"Well Captain Brawne, it seems I find myself in your debt, after all you were kind enough to rescue me from my captors in Gornmont" she explains, "and I seem to find myself in an interesting position in terms of where to go from here but for the moment I shall simply take the most plain explanation for my presence here. You seem to be the only person in Angalon and perhaps beyond, though I do not know much about those lands, who has ever killed one of the creatures I now seek my revenge on. Also in your favor at the moment is that you are neither an Oathkeeper nor a lawgiver and therefore won't try to force me to serve some higher purpose in exchange for any help I might ask of you".

The blonde leans back, her face hidden by the shadows as she speaks. "I want revenge Captain Brawne and if your companions are to be believed, you are just the man to help me achieve that goal. If they are not then I shall find some other way of settling our debt and be on my way".

There is a heavy silence that follows her words as the Captain and his companions all gaze at her. Krystyna appears concerned while Madame Archelle is somewhat displeased judging by her expression and Magda is merely curious. Only the Captain is entirely inscrutable.

'Mistress Damora,' the Captain explains in a low, patient tone, 'you may have heard a great deal about me but I would wager that not half of it is true. I didn't rescue you in Gornmont. You happened to be there when I was assisting someone in his mad crusade, a venture, I might add, that has yet to prove profitable.' He has withdraw his snuff box from his coat pocket and is stuffing the pipe with some kind of shredded weed. Madame Archelle begins to speak but the Captain silences her with a shake of his head.

'You hail from Damora? I don't call anywhere home but the skies. I'm a wanderer, Miss Alysa. I prefer to stay on the move, which is almost a requirement given that I'm a fugitive from the law. I travel as I will and take as I please, though never more than proves profitable. Every action has consequences and you have to weigh the risk against the reward. I know that doesn't sound romantic or impulsive but even the most supposedly rebellious of rogues does so if he intends to avoid capture for any amount of time.'

Tucking his pipe stem between his teeth, the Captain strikes a match against the stone upon which he sits. 'I know what you've been told but I didn't kill that doctor. His patients rose up against him for his cruelty and did him in. I may have helped but, just like with saving you, I happened to be there for an entirely different purpose. I'm not a hunter or a crusader, Mistress Damora; I'm a musician and occasional borrower of things that don't belong to me.'

Pointing at Alysa with the stem of his pipe, the Captain continues. 'There's no profit in vengeance, Mistress Damora. I do my best to keep myself and my people one step ahead of the law and all the other various enemies we've made but I don't plan on flying into the Frightlands for some heroic showdown with the forces of evil. That's Nicky's thing, not mine. So if you want revenge, Mistress Damora, I can't promise you anything. I never intended to cross paths with those creatures and I don't go looking for that kind of trouble. It's more than I want or need to deal with.'

Captain Robur puffs on his pipe while his companions continue to sit in an uncomfortable silence. 'Now, you want a job, I could use an experienced crewman. I don't subscribe to the belief that women aboard a ship are unlucky. On the contrary, these women here have been an asset to me and I wouldn't trade them for any other member of my crew.' He smiles at Madame Archelle, who nods in response, and Magda, who grins, showing her yellowed teeth. At the same time, the Captain ruffles the blonde hair of the woman sitting next to him.

'It's likely, though, that we might cross paths again with those things,' Captain Robur suggests, 'and, when that time comes, I wouldn't mind having an experienced blade by my side.'

The rogue considers his offer for a moment, remembering Krystyna's and Archelle's words on her revenge and the hatred that she harbors. Perhaps this is the universe's way of telling her it is not yet time for that, that she has many things to learn first.

"Then it seems my sword and my skills are yours Captain" she says, looking at Krystyna for a moment from where she sits, her blue eyes invisible in the darkness of the shadows around her/ "your words remind me of something your friend told me earlier and I feel perhaps it's time I listen to her. Revenge is secondary, if we cross paths with those creatures than all the better for me, if not then perhaps that is best for everyone. I am no innocent creature myself Captain Brawne, I have more than a little experience staying a step ahead of the law and would be happy to help you keep your friends and yourself out of their grasp".

"Damora was my home when I was young, there is nothing there for me now, not for a long time" she says as she leans forward into the light, her golden hair catching the fire's light and shimmering the color of the sand around them in sunlight. "Otherwise I would have taken the advice I was given and ignored your invitation tonight in favor of making a swift return there. But as it stands I am here and if you'll have me then let this be the beginning of a profitable friendship for all parties".

Captain Robur peers at Alysa for a long time and then slowly shakes his head.

'I think, Mistress Damora, that if I were to take you on with my crew, you'd be distracted with this business of yours. You could potentially imperil myself or my crew because you would be distracted by your own hatred. Suppose we did run across these creatures and you took it upon yourself to try and avenge yourself. I wouldn't stop you but, in your haste, you might put one of my companions in danger. I can't have that.'

He puffs on his pipe thoughtfully. 'I think I can help you, Miss Alysa, but you'll need to settle this matter of vengeance first.' Smiling, the Captain nods at Madame Archelle. 'And I think we know just the person who can assist you. He has his own style and he tries to abide by the law when it suits him but he has his own score to settle with these creatures, even if it kills him. Again.'

"Then by all means Captain Brawne, I leave it to you and the capable Madame Archelle to put me in contact with this man you speak of. It seems I find myself once again in your debt", Alysa is puzzled by just who he might be speaking of, but she is certain that he isn't going to betray her, though her instincts in such things have been wrong before. "And once I have either had my revenge or tired of its pursuit, perhaps we will have this conversation again".

'Know you, then, of the Nyctaloup? The Nightwolf?' asks Captain Robur, eyeing Alysa. 'He exists. It was he who we followed to Redclyffe and, if I'm going to be honest here, is responsible for saving you. I just happened to be there but I wouldn't have been had it not been for him so, as much as I'd like to take all the credit for it, he is the one you should speak to.'

Alysa had, of course, heard of the Nightwolf. He is a legendary Stalker who still prowls the streets of Viktoron, though most Lawgivers and Oathkeepers dismiss him as being a folk tale. Even if he is an actual person, he must have passed down his mantle to others as he would surely be over a century old by now.

'Ever since the incidents at Abbey Park,' Captain Robur explains, 'he's been trying to uncover what he thinks is a vast conspiracy by these creatures to try to take over all of Angalon.' He shrugs. 'Even if I believed him, only so much I can do to prevent it. Borrowing from rich dead folks would only be slightly harder than borrowing from the living.

'You might be asking why we would help him. There's an outstanding reward for my capture in Viktoron and throughout Angalon. I occasionally help him out so that he can keep the other Stalkers off my back. Oathkeepers are easy enough to spot but Stalkers sometimes don't give themselves away until they are right next to you. To say nothing of Thieftrappers but we know their tricks well.'

Exhaling rings of smoke, Captain Robur adds, 'Not to mention that he could use someone to keep him from leaping off the precipice. He's very dedicated to his personal crusades. He can be a bit cold and impersonal but he's not a bad fellow.'

'You could say,' Madame Archelle says slyly, smiling, 'that he has his heart in the right place.' Titus Martinet seems to find this statement amusing as well as he almost grins.

'That's enough,' Krystyna remarks. 'If any of us had suffered half as much as he has, we'd still be in the madhouse.'

'It was a hospital,' Madame Archelle corrects Krystyna emphatically, 'and we were guests.'

"Wait... that's who you say can help me?He's a myth and even if he wasn't he's surely dead by now...isn't he?" Alysa is uncertain as to whether Brawne and his friends are toying with her or if in fact there is something more to their words. She'd heard stories of the man as a child both from people in Damora and during her training as a Stalker, after all the man, if he was truly a man at all was legendary.

"But your friends and their advice have yet to lead me wrong, so I suppose I shall take you at your word" she concedes slowly, leaning back into the shadows once again. Her fingers press together as she waits to hear more. "Though if what you say is true you're probably one of the only men in all of Angalon to have seen him in many years, he's more a legend than anything".

'That sounds like a request,' Captain Robur nods at Krystyna. She reaches back and fumbles with something in a knapsack stowed between the rocks. She hands the instrument, which appears to be a kind of accordion, to the Captain while she picks up her harp once more.

Humming in his deep voice, the Captain nods at Martinet, who pulls out his small violin, along with a bow, from his own pack. Krystyna plucks the strings as the Captain begins to speak. It is very odd for though he seems to be talking, his words fall from his lips like music.

'The Horogoth had fled and so many lay dead and the pyres burned long into those nights. The dark and despair had consumed the people and they wept for the lost and the missing. In those grim times, a man arose to give hope to the hopeless. Of noble birth and bearing, he became a Stalker, one who hunts the wicked who trouble the good and just.

'At first, his prey were petty and small but soon he became wiser to a more prevalent evil than any that lurks in the Underbelly. With his airship, the Zenith, he traveled from city to city, town to town, eliminating this vile corruption. Eventually he discovered the cause of it all and journeyed beyond the mountains of Altus, eastward until he entered the Frightlands.

'Alas, his strength failed him as he confronted the source of his hatred. Though disarmed by her charms, the noble man refused to serve the monster willingly and she cursed him for it. He bled as she fed, day after day, until all but the last vestige of his life slipped away. His humanity imperiled, he made one last effort to escape her clutches and was saved by the intervention of another.

'But this sinister man had nefarious plans and as the stalker sought to recover, his savior ripped out his chest and tore out his heart before replacing it with a device made of brass. Such terrible devices were known only to the Horogoth. With his new organ, the stalker cleansed his blood of the affliction but he would never again be a truly living man.

'Lionares Sinclare died long ago and yet still he walks to this day. Rogues and villains, take care, for all should beware, once the Nightwolf stalks his prey.'

Athan suddenly shouts, 'Meat's done!' and breaks the enthralling spell that had been cast over Alysa as she found herself utterly fascinated by the lyrical tale and the voice of Captain Robur.

Alysa sits rapt, still managing to remain hidden in the shadows, though all around her know her. She has never heard this story and something about the Captain's voice has lulled her into the same strange calm as Krystyna's harp had earlier. So..a brass heart then..that was the secret to the the man's long life.

"I've never heard the tale told as well before Captain, I can see why many people fall under your spell and why your profession seems so profitable" she laughs, applauding from the shadows. She could see easily how someone without much skill in resisting their temptations would fall enraptured with the man and his husky baritone voice.

"But this raises the question Captain, where would a woman like me find the man to begin with and what's the chances he'll even take me on?" she asks, toying with her golden braid once again. "

The Captain nods at Athan as Magda hurries over to assist the stout in carving slices of the sizzling beef onto a wide wooden platter.

Madame Archelle has her cigarette lighter between her lips and is already lighting a cigarette at one end.

'He was something of a mentor of mine,' Captain Robur replies. 'When I was younger, which isn't as long ago as you may think, I had gotten into some trouble. Since I was a boy, I had always had two loves; music and mischief. Let us say that I became talented at creating both. That led to reeducation, of course, where they encouraged me to practice my music. As you may have guessed, I wasn't entirely reformed.'

He pats Krystyna's leg. 'In the course of my misadventures, I encountered the Nyctaloup. I was frightened at first but, for whatever reason, he gave me a choice of turning me into the authorities or for me to repay my debt by assisting him. Now, I knew I was destined to spend some time in a cell and I figured that, as long as I was out of the gaol, at least I could be on my way if I didn't like what he was offering.

The Captain shrugs. 'Turned out I enjoyed helping him more than I'd planned. He was strict and precise but never abusive or demanding. And he taught me more about clockwork and conductivity than I would have ever learned at lessons. Since then, when he needs a bit of help and there's sufficient reward to be had, I help him out when I'm around Viktoron.

'The first time I've seen him in Ganelon is when he showed up here with this grand scheme to investigate some mysterious deaths up in Gornmont and that, my dear Mistress Damora, is how we met you.'

'I overheard that Justice Khane is there now, in Gornmont,' Madame Archelle offers in the brief pause during which Magda has carried over the platter of steaming meat. The Captain, apropos of nothing, grabs a strip and stuffs it into his mouth, some of the juices dribbling down his chin and into his goatee. Krystyna, ever mindful, removes a handkerchief from one of the pockets in the front of her stained dress and dabs at his chin.

'I believe you are mistaken,' Captain Robur says as he swallows the meat and looks towards the madame. 'I saw Justice Khane at the shrine when I went to visit Miss Alysa here. She looked as surly as ever.'

'No,' Madame Archelle replies patiently, 'her father, Grisham. They sent him. I also hear that Justice Bolton is bound down from Esclabor to assist.'

'I suppose then,' Krystyna offers brightly, 'that Alysa might not need to seek her vengeance after all!'

The Captain shakes his head as he plucks another morsel of meat with his greasy fingers and holds it up towards the blonde beside him. She playfully slurps the bit of roast into her mouth as he responds quietly, 'I doubt that the Oathkeepers will find anything. Those things know how to clean up after themselves.'

'If they're so careful,' Madame Archelle asks, her gaze now fixed upon Alysa, 'then why kill Arturo Armonde and leave him where he could be found?'

Krystyna gives a start and looks around to Alysa as well.

'I don't know,' Captain Robur replies. 'Maybe the one pretending to be his wife got tired of the facade or maybe it got tired of listening to him. Who knows how one of those things thinks?'

'The Nyctaloup,' answers Madame Archelle coolly. 'He is practically one of them, after all.'

Someone taps Alysa on the shoulder and Magda stands there with a second platter of shaved meat, offering it to Alysa with a smile.

'It's not poisoned or anything,' she says helpfully. 'I could poison it too, if I really wanted to, but it's not poisoned. Is your chest feeling better?'

Alysa bites her lip as the women turn their gaze on her. She's the only one here who knows what happened that night and now she faces the difficult decision to inform them. She lets out a sigh "I think I can answer that question, if you like". If the shadows weren't hiding her face it would be obvious the blonde knows more than a little about the fate of Arturo Armonde though she's trying her best to hide it. She's unsure if that is one of the memories Krystyna saw in her mind earlier, but she feels it might explain the woman's look.

She's interrupted by Magda and smiles "much better Magda, in fact if I didn't know any better I would think the fight never happened" she laughs as she accepts the offered food, falling into silence as she waits to hear if anyone is interested in the story.

Magda smiles and leans forward to lick Alysa's cheek before she giggles and moves back towards the watchfire where Athan is loading up yet another platter. More of the locals have gathered, many of them children, and, with more than half the cooked cow still roasting on the spit, it seems they hope to share in the feast.

'Maybe he had ceased to be useful to them,' Krystyna speculates but Madame Archelle shrugs. 'Perhaps she had just gotten tired of him. I've felt that way about plenty of my former husbands.' Though she is elegant and fairly pretty, the madame does not appear old enough to have collected too many spouses unless the marriages were all fairly brief.

'That may be true,' Krystyna replies, 'but you didn't kill any of them.'

'No,' Madame Archelle affirms thoughtfully, 'though I do think I made a number of them very willing to murder me.'

Krystyna almost chokes on some meat as she tries to laugh and Captain Robur pats her on the back, chuckling, as he says to Madame Archelle, 'We've all felt that way about you at one time or another, my dear Madame Archelle.'

She gives him a scathing look and folds her arms with a sigh but her full lips cannot conceal the smile she tries to hide.

With yet another platter in her hands, Magda sits back down next to Madame Archelle, who has unsheathed one of her knives and uses it to spear a strip of meat which she then carefully chews, licking her lips. 'It's very good for a dead animal cooked out in the open on a refuse strewn beach.'

'Yes,' Magda replies enthusiastically as she helps herself and chews with her mouth open, 'and the salt air gives it more flavor!'

Alysa bites back a chuckle of her own as she realizes that no one's really interested in whatever part she might have played in the whole affair if in fact they suspect that she was anything more than a second hand witness at all.

She shifts and allows the light to fall on her smiling face as she picks up a piece of the roasted meat with her fingers and takes a bite. "Not bad" she laughs "I've certainly had much worse lately!"

She notices more and more the small affectionate gestures between Krystyna and Captain Brawne and she has to admit they would make a very sweet couple, if in fact his affection for her was anything more than just a passing glance one would give a puppy.

'Just be certain, Mistress Damora,' Captain Robur says, 'that this is what you want. I don't know what the truth of the story is. What I told you is just one tale I have heard. He doesn't like to discuss his past or what happened to him but I have seen the scars. I don't believe he has a heart of brass but he has a keen mind. Now, if you want to live the carefree life of an adventurer, then you're still welcome to join my crew or any other crew for that matter but if you're determined to hunt down the creature who attacked you, you'll find few who will understand that need better than Lionares Sinclare.'

Krystyna glances at Alysa with worry in her eyes. Magda noisily slurps down more of the meat and Madame Archelle has pulled out her pocket flask and sips from it now and then.

'For the evening, you can bunk down with Madame Archelle or you can stay with us,' Captain Robur says to Alyssa.

'I think she might enjoy a cot better than the floor of my bedroom,' Madame Archelle suggests. 'It can get damp in there at night.'

'You wouldn't let her share your bed?' Krystyna asks incredulously. Madame Archelle looks over Alysa with a faint grin. 'I don't think I'm her type and, besides, then we wouldn't get any sleep.'

Krystyna blushes furiously and Captain Robur shakes his head ruefully. 'I think we can find room for her on the Othello. She can stay with Krystyna for now since Magda is staying at the Wrongside with you, Madame. Once Athan gets the repairs done, we should be ready to go, assuming that Darek and the others manage to acquire the parts that Nemeth needs.'

Nodding, Krystyna smiles at Alysa. 'It's nothing fancy but Master Karbin insisted that the women have separate quarters from the berths so that we wouldn't be distracting his men with our sublime beauty.'

'It's not our fault we are utterly ravishing,' Madame Archelle agrees as she cocks her head at Magda. 'Though it would help if you wouldn't walk about skyclad when they're trying to work.'

'I love the feel of the wind on my bare skin,' Magda sighs peacefully.

Alysa nods to the Captain as he speaks "whatever my decision you'll have it in the morning Captain Brawne. You've given me much to think about as have Madame Archelle and the lovely Krystyna. I shall take all of your words under consideration before I make my final decision".

She turns her blue eyes on the woman at his side and smiles,"I'm sure it will be fine Krystyna, I don't need any special treatment I assure you" she says between bites of the delicious meat.

She is unsure which option she will take, any sane woman would take neither and be gone by daylight, but no one has ever accused Alysa Damora of being capable of rational decisions where her own safety is concerned.

She must however admit that Krystyna and Archelle are perhaps right, if she allows this desire for revenge to control her actions it may destroy her or even worse give the creatures something to use against her. But Brawne's point is worth considering as well, what if in her rage, given a shot at Mira or any like her she managed to put Krystyna or anyone else in harm's way. She has enough blood on her hands and is in no hurry to add to it.

She weighs the options in her mind as she eats, casting her eyes around the group occasionally. Brawne and his crew have been nothing if not welcoming to her and despite her intentions that is something that will weigh heavily in her decision.

There is also the matter of Lionares Sinclaire, she doubts her method of revenge would be much out of the ordinary for him, but there is the fact still that he is...was? a Stalker. Is she really ready to commit to that again? Especially with another offer on the table as enticing as a life of freedom with Captain Brawne?

It seems the blonde bandit has much thinking to do before the night is over

Behind Alysa, Athan has began to carve the remainder of the roast beast for the benefit of the impoverished folk that dwell upon the beach.

Captain Robur and his companions have fallen quiet but for the sounds of chewing and the smacking of lips.

'You should be free to choose your own fate,' the Captain declares as he swallows a mouthful of meat. 'That is what I have always believed. The Arcadians will tell you that everything is already written and that our choices are only an illusion but, if that's true, what's the point of any of this?'

He shakes his head. 'I believe we chart our own routes in this world and we may leave a wake behind us but that eventually fades. What happens after this world, I suppose I'll find out eventually but that will be another adventure in itself!'

The Othello appears to be an old longship without any masts or sails. It rests at the end of a pier, moored to the dock alongside other equally decrepit looking vessels. Given its size, it could probably house a crew of at least a hundred or possibly more. Upon closer inspection, however, Alysa might notice the twin aft propellers that are almost invisible below the murky waters of the bay.

'She needs more work,' Captain Robur admits. 'We ran into some trouble awhile back and repairs can be expensive, especially when you consider the cost of materials.' He walks up closer towards the ship and pats his hand on her hull. 'Still, she's all ours. I mean, sure, we stole her but we paid her off since then. Made a special deal with the original owners for almost twice what she'd be worth.'

'Not that that was money earned honestly either,' Madame Archelle demurs as she stands further down the dock. Captain Robur just grins.

'A friend of mine once told me that the only way for the common folk to make it in this world is the same way the wealthy do; with a bit of dishonesty, a little trickery and, if all else fails, just take what you can without being too greedy or too needy. It may not be the righteous path but we shall survive.'

'Shall we go aboard?' Krystyna suggests.

'After you, my dear,' Captain Robur replies, gesturing towards the ramp that rises from the pier upward to a gap in the railing that runs along the edge of the deck. Krystyna climbs up and disappears from view, peeking her head over the rails a moment later, smiling down at them.

Magda follows, balancing carefully with her arms outstretched at her sides, merrily whistling the same tune that had been sung earlier.

'I believe I shall return to the Wrongside and see if my room has been ransacked,' Madame Archelle says blithely. 'I've spent enough time aboard this ship for the moment and I quite enjoy the feeling of an actual bed beneath me.'

'I can have one of the crewmen escort you back, if you like,' Captain Robur suggests doubtfully.

'I should be just fine, Captain,' Madame Archelle answers. 'I've both your reputation and my own to safeguard me. Good evening, Captain.' She nods to him and then to Alysa. 'Mistress Damora.'

Her departure is interrupted by a low rumbling from above and, in the darkness of the evening, Alysa cannot see the source of the noise but she does notice there is a distant shadow in the sky that momentarily blots out a patch of stars. Captain Robur looks towards it longingly and sighs.

'Which do you suppose that is?' Madame Archelle asks, also gazing upward.

'It could be the Trevalyn or the Aisling,' Captain Robur responds. 'Both were due here in Ganelon in the next few days. It looks like they are headed for the skydock on the other side of the city.' He shakes his head. 'Darek and the others are arriving by train. Hopefully with some of the supplies, and information, that we need.'

Nodding, Madame Archelle bows to both of them before turning around on the dock and slowly striding away in a manner befitting a queen.

'She's useful in her way,' Captain Robur explains, whether or not Alysa offers any opinion. 'Those talents of hers are rare in these realms, as you know, and she feels they make her special, which they do, but not to the degree she thinks. She tells me that you have a very busy mind.' He smiles at Alysa.

'That's a good thing.'

With his arm extended, Captain Robur motions towards the ramp. 'After you, Mistress Damora.'

The bay is inky black beneath the moonless star swept skies and the lights of the city spread out all along the shoreline, glittering upon the waters. Once again, Alysa might be reminded of her home and the livelihood of her parents and the sea that had claimed them.

It is with those memories raging through her mind Alysa, albeit hesitantly steps up the ramp and aboard the Othello. "Perhaps I do Captain Brawne, although iin the past my busy mind has brought me much trouble, though some of that may have been less my mind and more my own fault!"

The clever rogue looks around the ship's deck as she waits for him to join her. She has tried to avoid places like this since her parent's death, abhorring ships and the sea with a passion that rivals only her current hatred of the vampirs, but she must admit for its small stature and unimpressive appearance the Othello seems to be a fair ship and she could see how Captain Brawne would be proud.

"In my experience Captain Brawne, no money in this world is honestly earned, it's all been stolen in some way, some are just more honest about that fact than others" she laughs, still lost to thoughts of her parents and of the decision that lays before her.

'That's the spirit!' Captain Robur laughs as he follows Alysa up the rickety narrow ramp, his heavy footsteps causing the planks to shudder beneath her.

'Which reminds me that we might not have actually paid for that cow.' He scratches his bearded chin. 'There were a lot of them. I doubt they'd miss just one.'

The deck of the Othello appears to be in good repair, though it is difficult to tell in the dark. There are a few lanterns hanging near the staircase that leads down into the ship but the rest of the upper and main decks are unlit and steeped in shadows.

'The recompense for this fine lady is only one of the arrangements that Master Sinclare has made for me,' the Captain says as he stands surveying his small but mobile domain. 'So all this belongs to me and my crew. I didn't name her the Othello but there's that old superstition about renaming vessels. Especially if they're stolen. I'd wager someone made that up to discourage people stealing his ships and renaming them so he couldn't recover them but that's just my personal theory.'

He strides towards the staircase and gestures to it. 'Be my guest, as you already are!'

Alysa can't help but laugh as she follows the Captain across the deck, "well I'm sure you've repaid him many times over for such a kindness, she's a lovely ship. And as for the cow I agree, they're not likely to miss just one and if they do they'll assume some wild animal carried it off, not likely you'll be framed for that one".

She follows his gesture and ascends the staircase in front of them, smiling back over her shoulder. "Though truth be told Captain, I don't much care how you come by your things, I'm not above liberating the odd item or coin from its rightful owner now and then myself. I'm sure should I choose to join you I'll fit right in".

'To be quite honest,' Captain Robur says, more seriously, as Alysa descends down into the ship, 'I don't believe I can ever repay that kind of debt and it would be foolish to try. I don't think of it so much as something owed to him by me as I do that he is a friend and we exchange favors as such, rather than as commodities.'

If the exterior hull of the Othello bears the wear of years and the elements, then the inside is entirely opposite. The walls are decorated with stained wood paneling and there are brass sconces where lanterns rest, not all of them lit at the moment. Though the corridor is only wide enough for perhaps two people to walk side by side, it is still more spacious that it may have appeared from without. Her sandals whisper upon the hardwood floors, reminding Alysa that Madame Archelle had not bothered giving her a pair of boots, even though Alysa had spied many, many pairs in her wardrobes.

'Athan is a master carpenter, which isn't an oddity among his people. They love their tradecraft. Even when I remind him that a whole crew of ruffians are going to be rushing up and down these hallways, tracking in mud and filth, he insists on doing his best to make it look just as nice as the Artorius.'

The Artorius, named for the first king of a unified Angalon, is the Queen's personal transport ship and far larger than the Othello.

'She only has twenty guns,' Captain Robur says, 'but you have to spare weight somewhere. She's still faster than almost any fifth rank ship in the entire Royal Navy and I've had to prove that more than once! Now, all the doors to your right and left are berths, with the ladies' cabins in the aft and the captain's quarters in the bow, right next to the hold.'

He grimaces. 'It used to be the other way around but it was changed for reasons I need not explain to you, I'm sure.'

'If you follow the staircase around and go down, that's where we have the powder room, the stores, the galley and the engine room. I'd stay out of any of those without invitation or permission if I were you but, since you're with me, you certainly have it!'

There is an open area on the other side of the staircase where rows of cannons line along the bowed walls near the currently closed portholes through which they would be thrust in times of battle. Yet they do not have two wheels on either side of the base. Instead, they appear to be mounted on some kind of base. Furthermore, they are all connected by what looks to be thick black ropes that all merge at a single point and go down to the lowest deck.

Past these cannons is another door and, beneath the upper staircase, there is another that leads down, just as the Captain had indicated.

'Try not to lose her in here like you did the last one,' Krystyna jokes as she walks down the long hall where the Captain had mentioned the berths lay. She smiles warmly at Alysa. 'I'll have your cot made up by the time you're done, if you're tired, that is. You did spend most of the afternoon with Madame Archelle and I know how exhausting it can be to talk to her.' The blonde woman giggles and Captain Robur smirks.

'Best be careful what you say, my dear,' he warns Krystyna. 'She can read thoughts.'

'So can I,' Krystyna winks at Alysa, 'and that's why I'm even a little threatened by her.' She gives a parting laugh and sashays back down the hall, most likely for the benefit of the Captain, who fails to notice as he is preoccupied talking to Alysa.

Alysa chuckles as the two have their exchange, clearly they're more alike than they choose to admit. She is however impressed by Athan's work, its practical but at the same time attractive.

"She's...something" she concedes diplomatically, although the smirk on her face shows that she agrees with Krystyna."But she's pleasant enough when she's not rummaging around in your head I suppose so she's got that going for her". She looks from Krystyna to Brawne as the blonde woman leaves, stifling a chuckle at the Captain's obliviousness.

"He's done a good job though" she laughs "Hopefully it holds up to you and your crew of ruffians as you say. Can't do much with your ship falling apart now can you?"

'That's why he's invaluable,' Captain Robur replies, 'but not more than any other member of my crew. They say that a ship is run on strict discipline but I've found that we work together better when I trust everyone to perform their role and I don't stand around barking orders.' His eyes twinkle.

'Martinet and I disagree on that. He and Karbin enjoy their positions a bit too much but the men don't seem to mind, since they don't take them all that seriously. So, what would you like to see?'