[i][color=bc8dbf]Annaveya Kushrina[/color][/i] - [u]The Northern Cross[/u]

Patiently she sat, waited, and listened. Rotating the amber scotch in the colander slowly in her wrist, she partook in only a light sip of the sinful liquid on occasion. After all, there is a special place in hell for those who do not savor good whiskey. Concise as ever, her ears caught little of any piracy trafficking or talk, only of the nonsensical conversation of common blooded and less adventurous folk. 

As it turned out, the intelligence report was rather filled with nonsense. For which she managed a sigh of relief. As much as she despised Piracy, the killing of others who weren't involved had been alleviated. For that at least, she was thankful. 

However, the calm nature of the little tavern rapidly changed with the zealously grandiose eruption of the one who identified himself as Captain Edoric Thatch. While she didn't face him directly, she smirked arrogantly. After all, in the search for the scum of the earth, who would have thought for even a moment that one of the rats would fall into her lap?

Out of the corner of her golden eye, she watched him gallop about the tavern like a fool. Perhaps in madness, or perhaps in some way to show his cleverness or ability; needless to say, the actual Airship Captain was less than impressed. So she stood, carefully remaining within his shadow behind him as she slid smoothly forward. Her feet as light as a feather while she came up behind the supposed Pirate "Captain", as if he deserved such a title to begin with. 

For first time that Edoric would notice the Kushrina Mercantile Captain was the very moment that he felt something cold and hard press against the base of his neck. With it came a very audible click. Marking the sound of a flintlock pistol's hammer being drawn back. Not a split second later, a similar hardness was found at the base of his spine; with a second click of a hammer being cocked and ready to fire if she simply twitched a finger.

[color=bc8dbf]"Edoric Thatch, I presume."[/color] She softly spoke, ever concisely. [color=bc8dbf]"I'm sure you know who I am, well, if you saw my face anyway. But no matter."[/color] While the pistol aimed at his spine didn't move, the one upon his neck moved forward. Just past his ear as the flintlock cane snapping down. With an uproarious sound, the shot fired a bright red flare into the distance through the opened door. 

Whispers on the wind marked the movement as the fourteen paramilitary members swiftly closed in their perimeter. Four of which swiftly moved with feline grace into the Tavern as Annaveya holstered the first pistol and instead drew a razor sharp knife. Holding it at the ready, she nudged the Pirate forward.

[color=bc8dbf]"Shall we take a walk, Edoric? I believe that we have some business to attend to. Primarily that I'd rather not put a grapefruit sized hole through your gut in front of all these fine people."[/color]