Emmaline peered at Markus suspiciously. It certainly looked like the corsair captain. She sniffed as though attempting to detect the smell of liquor or hashish but found nothing out of the ordinary. She took another sip of the dwarven ale without speaking and then set the stein down on the table. She wasn't even sure how to process his words, being a past master of the back handed compliment made her suspicious.

Morality was a strange thing she supposed. He respected her because she was a swindler. She was annoying but valued. It occured to her that she wouldn't be here at all if he hadn't kidnapped her in the first place. She supposed that she could probably have run off if she wanted to, in Sartosa perhaps but here certainly, but the truth was that sailing with Markus on an adventure that might make them all rich was far more appealing than scamming aging socialites with miracle youth potions. It was also true that although he had kidnapped her, she owed Markus something for protecting her, and not for simply selling her at auction to what, she modestly suspected would be a small fortune. And so having considered her words she opened her mouth and responded.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with Markus Flintbrook?"