Calliope opened the door with a simple word of command and led Markus inside. He took one last glance behind them, seeing nothing more than shapes and shadows, and it was likely the mob that had gathered outside rather than the one chasing them. He ran in and closed the door, locking it and closing every blind that wasn't already down. "[i]We should be safe enough here, whoever you are[/i]." the woman said, a bit more at ease within the shop. She likely knew something he didn't. Considering she was the ruler of the city they were currently in, he wouldn't doubt. 

Still. All of the wars on the continent and the raids at sea, and he was about to be skewered by a mob of hungry common folk." Sink me," he cursed under his breath. What did Sketti the Dwarf say when they were in a difficult spots? 'Harp up in a clinch and no knife to cut the seizings?' He wished the maniac Dwarf was here now, he could use his help. The man calmed himself, picturing himself breathing in the very mystical essence in the air, and breathing out his worries. It was an old elven technique his master had taught him to concentrate. 

"I'm a privateer." He told her, giving the smallest peek out of the window. "Or was. Markus." he said. "Flintbrook." 

He didn't presume to tell her he knew who she was. He wanted to see if she would lie. The Blademage pulled back as shadows ran by, and stepped deeper into the room. Once she introduced herself, he would give her a cursory glance. Even in her traveling outfit meant to conceal features, she was undeniably gorgeous. It was just his luck. The first beautiful woman's company in months and she was the one that now threatened his life with her presence. Then again, it [i]was[/i] his fault. If he could he'd hang his damned honor. 

Subtley, he entered his magesight. If one looked closely, they would see the barest glow of his pupils before they turned dark once more. Even without studying the woman thoroughly, he could tell she was a competent mage. He'd met ones who were stronger, but she was far more powerful than he was, not that that was saying much. He'd met few in the realms that were a better blade than he. His magic only enhanced his martial skills. 

His glance and magical examination lasted the span of a second. "I take it you don't mind leaving Calaverd." He told her, striding past her to collect whatever supplies they might need. Plenty of rope, apparently. A few bits of dried meat in the cupboard. Three bottles of rum. "You can go your own merry way, or you could help me in procuring a ship I know of. A full rigged Sloop of War." 

It had been roped to the docks for a week. A captured Praelian Sloop, unnamed since its obtainment. The privateer had been wanting to steal it since he laid eyes on it, but he hadn't the incentive yet. He had even snuck aboard one night to become acclimated to its halls and build. "I would take it by myself, but it needs two bodies on deck..." 
[@Penny]