<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c4/a2/eb/c4a2eb3622a5fd5f4149b8e094a22fa3.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Danae Vine-Lott (https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/13428552/mqOlTT)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>The Mercy, Deck<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>White cotton jodhpurs, loose grey muslin riding shirt with collar open and sleeves rolled up, barefoot<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Still questioning<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Baykur, Jacqueline, Colleen<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Musket muzzle resting against her shoulder, she contemplated the bizarre sight of Baykur's girl.  It simply could not have been that the girl had been at sea for long.  She seemed unmarked by sun, salt-spray, or rope.  A familiar suspicion fell over Danae.  Little seemed to fit or make sense.  Did the Captain have a similar fate planned for some of the castaways of the<em>Charlotte</em>.  After all, they were on the high seas, and there were numerous ports where a lady of civilised climes would fetch a good price at a slave auction.<br/><br/>"Captain, we are grateful for your hospitality, and for your crew's aid," Danae said, though she clasped the grip of the musket tight.  There was so much unspoken that it filled Danae with an odd trepidation.  Here was the captain's intimate - her servant and lover, a companion against the solitude of long sea-voyages. Could it be that she was kept in the cabin all day?<br/><br/>She nodded to Colleen in acknowledgment, still unsure of what to make of her, and introduced herself.  "Our ship was wrecked in a squall or storm, though I know not how her hull came to be sundered.  I am not a navigator, so I am on unfamiliar ground.  I, for one, am from Mordent, a much colder and darker land than this one.  My companion and I would be grateful for food, and water to drink and a basin with which to wash.<br/>Then, perhaps, a place in which to rest, if only for a little while."<br/><br/>Danae scrutinised Colleen carefully, observing both her speech and motions, seeking to understand how she could ever have found herself on a ship such as this one.  Questions would have to wait though.  She did not wish to give Baykur the impression that they were anything but grateful and compliant.<br/><br/>To Baykur she spoke, soldier to seafarer, "I am a woman of practical manners, Captain - what may I offer you in return for this generosity?"  She fixed her host's gaze to make clear that this was a question borne out of gratitude and not fear.